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I'm  not  going  to  tell  you  anything  more,'   said 
Phyllis."  — Page  135. 


THE 


DOLLY   DIALOGUES  , 


BV 

ANTHONY   HOPE 

AUTHOR   OF   "  THE    PRISONER   OF   ZENDA 


NEW  YORK 
GEORGE    SULLY 

1895 


CONTENTS. 


I. 

A  Liberal  Education   . 

•      5 

II. 

Cordial  Relations    .     . 

•     13 

III. 

Retribution 

.     22 

IV. 

The  Perverseness  of  it 

•    30 

V. 

A  Matter  of  Duty   .    . 

.    38 

VI. 

My  Last  Chance   .    .    . 

47 

VII. 

The  Little  Wretch.    . 

56 

VIII. 

An  Expensive  Privilege 

65 

IX. 

A  Very  Dull  Affair    .     . 

75 

X. 

Strange,  but  True  .     . 

ss 

XI. 

The  Very  Latest  Thing 

95 

XII. 

An  Uncounted  Hour    . 

103 

XIII. 

A  Reminiscence     .    .     .     . 

112 

XIV. 

A  Fine  Day 

121 

XV. 

The  House  Opposite     . 

129 

XVI. 

A  Quick  Change   .    .    .    . 

138 

XVII. 

A  Slight  Mistake     .    .    . 

147 

XVIII. 

The  Other  Lady   .    .    .     . 

156 

XIX. 

What  Might  Have  Been 

165 

XX. 

One  Way  In 

175 

The    Dolly    Dialogues. 


A    LIBERAL   EDUCATION 

"There's  ingratitude  for  you  !  "  Miss 
Dolly  Foster  exclaimed  suddenly. 

"Where?"  I  asked,  rousing  myself 
from  meditation. 

She  pointed  at  a  young  man  who  had 
just  passed  where  we  sat.  He  was 
dressed  very  smartly,  and  was  walking 
with  a  lady  attired  in  the  height  of  the 
fashion. 

"I  made  that  man,"  said  Dolly,  "and 
now  he  cuts  me  dead  before  the  whole 
of  the  Row  !  It 's  atrocious.  Why,  but 
for  me,  do  you  suppose  he  'd  be  at 
this  moment  engaged  to  three  thousand 
a  year  and  —  and  the  plainest  girl  in 
London?" 

"  Not  that,"  I  pleaded  ;  "  think  of  —  " 


6  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  Well,  very  plain  anyhow.  1  was 
quite  ready  to  bow  to  him.  I  almost 
did." 

''In  fact  you  did?" 

"  I  did  n't.     I  declare  I  did  n't." 

"  Oh,  well,  you  did  n't  then.  It  only 
looked  like  it." 

''I  met  him,"  said  Miss  Dolly,  "three 
years  ago.  At  that  time  he  was  —  oh, 
quite  unpresentable.  He  was  everything 
he  shouldn't  be.  He  was  a  teetotaler, 
you  know,  and  he  did  n't  smoke,  and  he 
was  always  going  to  concerts.  Oh,  and 
he  wore  his  hair  long,  and  his  trousers 
short,  and  his  hat  on  the  back  of  his 
head.     And  his  umbrella — " 

"Where  did  he  wear  that?" 

"  He  caj'ried  that,  Mr.  Carter.  Don't 
be  silly  !  Carried  it  unrolled,  you  know, 
and  generally  a  paper  parcel  in  the  other 
hand ;  and  he  had  spectacles  too." 

"  He  has  certainly  changed  outwardly 
at  least." 

"Yes,  I  know;  well,  I  did  that.  I 
took  him  in  hand,  and  I  just  taught 
him,  and  now  —  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  know  that.  But  how  did  you 
teach  him?  Give  him  Saturday  evening 
lectures,  or  what?  " 


A  Liberal  Education  7 

"  Oh,  every-evening  lectures,  and  most- 
morning  walks.  And  I  taught  him  to 
dance,  and  I  broke  his  wretched  fiddle 
with  my  own  hands  !  " 

"What  very  arbitrary  distinctions  you 
draw  !  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean.  I  do 
like  a  man  to  be  smart,  anyhow.  Don't 
you,  Mr.  Carter?  You  're  not  so  smart 
as  you  might  be.  Now,  shall  I  take  you 
in  hand?  "     And  she  smiled  upon  me. 

"  Let 's  hear  your  method.  What  did 
you  do  to  him? " 

"To  Phil  Meadows?  Oh,  nothing. 
I  just  slipped  in  a  remark  here  and 
there,  whenever  he  talked  nonsense.  I 
used  to  speak  just  at  the  right  time, 
you  know." 

"  But  how  had  your  words  such  in- 
fluence, Miss  Foster?" 

"  Oh,  well,  you  know,  Mr.  Carter,  I 
made  it  a  conditiofi  that  he  should  do 
just  what  I  wanted  in  little  things  like 
that.  Did  he  think  I  was  going  to  walk 
about  with  a  man  carrying  a  brown- 
paper  parcel  —  as  if  we  had  been  to 
the  shop  for  a  pound  of  tea?" 

"  Still,  I  don't  see  why  he  should  alter 
all  his  — " 


8  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  Oh,  you  are  stupid  !  Of  course,  he 
liked  me,  you  know." 

"Oh,  did  he?     I  see." 

"  You  seem  to  think  that  very  funny." 

"  Not  that  he  did  —  but  that,  appar- 
ently, he  does  n't." 

''  Well,  you  got  out  of  that  rather 
neatly — for  you.  No,  he  doesn't  now. 
You  see,  he  misunderstood  my  motive. 
He  thought  —  well,  I  do  believe  he 
thought  I  cared  for  him,  you  know. 
Of  course  I  did  n't." 

"Not  a  bit?" 

"  Just  as  a  friend  —  and  a  pupil,  you 
know.  And  when  he  'd  had  his  hair  cut 
and  bought  a  frock-coat  (fancy !  he  'd 
never  had  one  !),  he  looked  quite  nice. 
He  has  nice  eyes.  Did  you  notice 
them?" 

"  Lord,  no  !  " 

"  Well,  you  're  so  unobservant." 

"  Oh,  not  always.  I  've  observed  that 
your  —  " 

"  Please  don't !     It 's  no  use,  is  it." 

I  looked  very  unhappy.  There  is  an 
understanding  that  I  am  very  unhappy 
since  Miss  Foster's  engagement  to  the 
Earl  of  Mickleham  was  announced. 

"  What  was  I    saying   before  —  before 


A  Liberal  Education  9 

you — you  know — oh,  about  Phil  Mead- 
ows, of  course.  I  did  Hke  him  very 
much,  J  j\i  know,  or  I  should  n't  have 
taken  all  that  trouble.  Why,  his  own 
mother  thanked  me  !  " 

"  I  have  no  more  to  say,"  said  I. 

"  But  she  wrote  me  a  horrid  letter 
afterwards." 

"You  're  so  very  elliptical." 

"  So  very  what,  Mr.  Carter?  " 

"  You  leave  so  much  out,  I  mean. 
After  what?"     " 

"  Why,  after  I  sent  him  away.  Did  n't 
I  tell  you?  Oh,  we  had  the  most  awful 
scene.  He  raved,  Mr.  Carter.  He 
called  me  the  most  horrid  names, 
and  —  " 

"Tore  his  hair?" 

"  It  was  n't  long  enough  to  get  hold 
of,"  she  tittered.  "  But  don't  laugh. 
It  was  really  dreadful.  And  so  unjust ! 
And  then,  next  day,  when  I  thought  it 
was  comfortably  over,  you  know,  he 
came  back,  and  —  and  apologized,  and 
called  himself  the  most  awful  names, 
and  —  well,  that  was  really  worse." 

"  What  did  the  fellow  complain  of  ?  " 
I  asked  in  wondering  tones. 

"  Oh,  he  said  I  'd  destroyed  his  faith 


10  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

in  women,  you  know,  and  that  I  'd  led 
him  on,  and  that  I  was — well,  he  was 
very  rude,  indeed.  And  he  went  on  writ- 
ing me  letters  like  that  for  a  whole  year  ! 
It  made  me  quite  uncomfortable." 

"  But  he  did  n't  go  back  to  short 
trousers  and  a  fiddle,  did  he?"  I  asked 
anxiously. 

*'  Oh,  no.  But  he  forgot  all  he  owed 
me,  and  he  told  me  that  his  heart  was 
dead,  and  that  he  should  never  love  any 
one  again." 

"  But  he  's  going  to  marry  that  girl." 

"  Oh,  he  does  n't  care  about  her," 
said  Miss  Dolly  reassuringly.  "  It 's  the 
money,  you  know.  He  hadn't  a  farth- 
ing of  his  own.  Now  he  '11  be  set  up  for 
life." 

*'  And  it 's  all  due  to  you  !  "  said  I 
admiringly. 

"  Well,  it  is,  really." 

"  I  don't  call  her  such  a  bad-looking 
girl,  though."      (I  had  n't  seen  her  face.) 

''  Mr.  Carter  !     She  's  hideous  I " 

I  dropped  that  subject. 

"And  now,"  said  Miss  Dolly  again, 
"  he  cuts  me  dead  !  " 

"  It  is  the  height  of  ingratitude.  Why, 
to  love  you  was  a  liberal  education  !  " 


A  Liberal  Education  ii 

"Yes,  wasn't  it?  How  nicely  you 
put  that.  '  A  liberal  education  !  '  I 
shall  tell  Archie  "  (Archie  ■  is  Lord 
Mickleham). 

''  What,  about  Phil  Meadows?" 

"  Goodness  me,  no,  Mr.  Carter.  Just 
what  you  said,  you  know." 

"  But  why  not  tell  Mickleham  about 
Phil  Meadows?"  I  urged.  "It's  all  to 
your  credit,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  I  know,  but  men  are  so  foolish. 
You  see,  Archie  thinks  —  " 

"  Of  course  he  does." 

"  You  might  let  me  finish." 

"  Archie  thinks  you  were  never  in  love 
before." 

"Yes,  he  does.  Well,  of  course,  I 
wasn't  in  love  with  Phil  —  " 

"Not  a  little  bit?" 

"Oh,  well  —  " 

"  Nor  with  any  one  else?  " 

Miss  Dolly  prodded  the  path  with  her 
parasol. 

"Nor  with  any  one  else?"  I  asked 
again. 

Miss  Dolly  looked  for  an  instant  in  my 
direction. 

"  Nor  with  any  one  else?  "  said  I. 

Miss  Dolly  looked  straight  in  front  of 
her. 


12  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  Nor  with  —  "  I  began. 

*'  Hullo,  old  chappie,  where  did  you 
spring  from?  " 

''  Why,  Archie  !  "  cried  Miss  Dolly. 

*'  Oh,  how  are  you,  Mickleham,  old 
man?  Take  this  seat;  I'm  just  off  — 
just  off.  Yes,  I  was,  upon  my  honor  — 
got  to  meet  a  man  at  the  club.  Good-by, 
Miss  Foster.     Jove  !  I  'm  late  !  " 

And  as  I  went  I  heard  Miss  Dolly 
say,  "  I  thought  you  were  never  coming, 
Archie,  dear  !  "  Well,  she  did  n't  think 
he  was  coming  just  then.  No  more 
did   I. 


II 

CORDIAL  RELATIONS 

The  other  day  I  paid  a  call  on  Miss 
Dolly  Foster  for  the  purpose  of  pre- 
senting to  her  my  small  offering  on  the 
occasion  of  her  marriage  to  Lord  Mick- 
leham.  It  was  a  pretty  little  bit  of  jew- 
ellery—  a  pearl  heart,  broken  (rubies 
played  the  part  of  blood)  and  held  to- 
gether by  a  gold  pin,  set  with  diamonds, 
the  whole  surmounted  by  an  earl's  coro- 
net. I  had  taken  some  trouble  about 
it,  and  I  was  grateful  when  Miss  Dolly 
asked  me  to  explain  the  symbolism. 

"It  is  my  heart,"  I  observed.  "The 
fracture  is  of  your  making  :  the  pin  —  " 

Here  Miss  Dolly  interrupted  :  to  tell 
the  truth  I  was  not  sorry,  for  I  was 
fairly  gravelled  for  the  meaning  of  the 
pin. 

"  What  nonsense,  Mr.  Carter  1  "  said 
she  ;  "  but  it 's  awfully  pretty.  Thanks, 
so  very,  very  much.  Are  n't  relations 
funny  people?" 


14  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  If  you  wish  to  change  the  subject, 
pray  do,"  said  I.  "  I  '11  change  anything 
except  my  affections." 

"  Look  here,"  she  pursued,  holding 
put  a  bundle  of  letters.  "  Here  are  the 
congratulatory  epistles  from  relations. 
Shall  I  read  you  a  few?" 

''  It  will  be  a  most  agreeable  mode  of 
passing  the  time,"  said  I. 

*•'  This  is  from  Aunt  Georgiana  —  she  's 
a  widow  —  lives  at  Cheltenham.  '  My 
dearest  Dorothea  — '  " 

"Who?" 

"  Dorothea 's  my  name,  Mr.  Carter. 
It  means  the  gift  of  heaven,  you  know." 

"  Precisely.  Pray  proceed.  Miss  Dolly. 
I  did  not  at  first  recognize  you." 

*' '  My  dearest  Dorothea,  I  have  heard 
the  news  of  your  engagement  to  Lord 
Mickleham  with  deep  thankfulness.  To 
obtain  the  love  of  an  honest  man  is  a 
great  prize.  I  hope  you  will  prove 
worthy  of  it.  Marriage  is  a  trial  and  an 
opportunity  — '  " 

"  Hear,  hear  !  "  said  I.  "A  trial  for 
the  husband   and —  " 

"Be  quiet,  Mr.  Carter.  'A  trial  and 
an  opportunity.  It  searches  the  heart 
and    it   affords    a   sphere    of    usefulness 


Cordial  Relations  15 

which — '  So  she  goesi  on,  you  know. 
I  don't  see  why  I  need  be  lectured  just 
because  I  'm  going  to  be  married,  do 
you,  Mr.   Carter?" 

"  Let 's  try  another,"  said  I.  ''  Who  's 
that  on  pink  paper?  " 

"  Oh,  that 's  Georgy  Vane.  She  's  aw- 
ful fun.  '  Dear  old  Dolly,  —  So  you  've 
brought  it  off.  Hearty  Congrats.  I 
thought  you  were  going  to  be  silly  and 
throw  away  —  '  There  's  nothing  else 
there,  Mr.  Carter.  Look  here.  Listen 
to  this.  It 's  from  Uncle  William.  He  's 
a  clergyman,  you  know.  *  My  dear 
Niece,  —  I  have  heard  with  great  gratifi- 
cation of  your  engagement.  Your  aunt 
and  I  unite  in  all  good  wishes.  I  recol- 
lect Lord  Mickleham's  father  when  I 
held  a  curacy  near  Worcester.  He  was 
a  regular  attendant  at  church  and  a 
supporter  of  all  good  works  in  the  dio- 
cese. If  only  his  son  takes  after  him 
(fancy  Archie  !)  you  have  secured  a 
prize.  I  hope  you  have  a  proper  sense 
of  the  responsibilities  you  are  undertak- 
ing. Marriage  affords  no  small  opportu- 
nities ;  it  also  entails  certain  trials  — '  " 

"  Why,  you  're  reading  Aunt  Georgiana 
again." 


1 6  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

^'  Am  I  ?     N%  it 's  Uncle  William." 

''  Then  let 's  try  a  fresh  cast  —  unless 
you  '11  finish  Georgy  Vane's." 

'^  Well,  here  's  Cousin  Susan's.  She  's 
an  old  maid,  you  know.  It 's  very  long. 
Here 's  a  bit :  *  Woman  has  it  in  her 
power  to  exercise  a  sacred  influence.  I 
have  not  the  pleasure  of  knowing  Lord 
Mickleham,  but  I  hope,  my  dear,  that 
you  will  use  your  power  over  him  for 
good.  It  is  useless  for  me  to  deny  that 
when  you  stayed  with  me,  I  thought  you 
were  addicted  to  frivolity.  Doubtless 
marriage  will  sober  you.  Try  to  make 
a  good  use  of  its  lessons.  I  am  sending 
you  a  biscuit  tin '  —  and  so  on." 

"  A  very  proper  letter,"  said  I. 

Miss  Dolly  indulged  in  a  slight  gri- 
mace, and  took  up  another  letter. 

*'  This,"  she  said,  "  is  from  my  sister- 
in-law,  Mrs.  Algernon  Foster." 

"  A  daughter  of  Lord  Doldrums,  was  n't 
she?" 

"  Yes.  *  My  dear  Dorothea  —  I  have 
heard  your  news.  I  do  hope  it  will  turn 
out  happily.  I  believe  that  any  woman 
who  conscientiously  does  her  duty  can 
find  happiness  in  married  life.  Her  hus- 
band and    children  occupy  all   her  time 


Cordial  Relations  17 

and  all  her  thoughts,  and  if  she  can  look 
for  few  of  the  lighter  pleasures  of  hfe,  she 
has  at  least  the  knowledge  that  she  is  of 
use  in  the  world.  Please  accept  the 
accompanying  volumes  (it 's  Browfiing) 
as  a  small  —  '  I  say,  Mr.  Carter,  do  you 
think  it 's  really  like  that?  " 

"  There  is  still  time  to  draw  back,"  I 
observed. 

"  Oh,  don't  be  silly.  Here,  this  is 
my  brother  Tom's.  *  Dear  Dol,  —  I 
thought  Mickleham  rather  an  ass  when 
I  met  him,  but  I  dare  say  you  know 
best.  What's  his  place  like?  Does  he 
take  a  moor?  I  thought  I  read  that  he 
kept  a  yacht.  Does  he?  Give  him  my 
love  and  a  kiss.  Good  luck,  old  girl.  — 
Tom.  P.  S.  —  I  'm  glad  it 's  not  me,  you 
know.'  " 

*'A  disgusting  letter,"  I  observed. 

*'Not  at  all,"  said  Miss  Dolly,  dim- 
pling. "  It 's  just  like  dear  old  Tom. 
Listen  to  grandpapa's.  *  My  dear 
Granddaughter,  —  The  alliance  (I  rather 
like  it 's  being  called  an  alliance,  Mr. 
Carter.  It  sounds  like  the  Royal  Fam- 
ily, does  n't  it  ?)  you  are  about  to  con- 
tract is  in  all  respects  a  suitable  one.  I 
send  you  my  blessing,  and  a  small  check 


1 8  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

to  help  towards  your  trousseau.  —  Yours 
affectionately,  Jno.  Wm.  Foster.'  " 

"  That,"  said  I,  "  is  the  best  up  to 
now." 

"Yes,  it's  500,"  said  she,  smiling. 
"  Here  's  old  Lady  M.'s." 

"  Whose  V  I  exclaimed. 

"Archie's  mother's,  you  know.  'My 
dear  Dorothea  (as  I  suppose  I  must  call 
you  now)  — -Archibald  has  informed  us 
of  his  engagement,  and  I  and  the  girls 
(there  are  five  girls,  Mr.  Carter)  hasten 
to  welcome  his  bride.  I  am  sure  Archie 
will  make  his  wife  very  happy.  He  is 
rather  particular  (like  his  dear  father), 
but  he  has  a  good  heart,  and  is  not 
fidgety  about  his  meals.  Of  course  we 
shall  be  delighted  to  move  out  of  The 
Towers  at  once.  I  hope  we  shall  see  a 
great  deal  of  you  soon.  Archie  is  full 
of  your  praises,  and  we  thoroughly  trust 
his  taste.  Archie  — '  It 's  all  about 
Archie,  you  see." 

"  Naturally,"  said  I. 

"Well,  I  don't  know.  I  suppose  I 
count  a  little,  too.  Oh,  look  here. 
Here  's  Cousin  Fred's  — but  he  's  always 
so  silly.     I  shan't  read  you  his." 

"  Oh,  just  a  bit  of  it,"  I  pleaded. 


Cordial  Relations  19 

"  Well,  here  's  one  bit.  *  I  suppose  I 
can't  murder  him,  so  I  must  wish  him 
joy.  All  I  can  say  is,  Dolly,  that  he  's 
the  luckiest  (something  I  can't  read  — 
either  fellow  or — devil)  1  ever  heard 
of.  I  wonder  if  you  've  forgotten  that 
evening —  '  " 

*'  Well,  go  on."     For  she  stopped. 

"  Oh,  there  's  nothing  else." 

*'  In  fact,  you  have  forgotten  the 
evening?  " 

'*  Entirely,"  said  Miss  Dolly,  tossing 
her  head.  "  But  he  sends  me  a  love  of 
a  bracelet.  He  can't  possibly  pay  for 
it,  poor  boy." 

"  Young  knave  !  "  said  I  severely.  (I 
had  paid  for  my  pearl  heart.) 

"Then  come  a  lot  from  girls.  Oh, 
there  's  one  from  Maud  Tottenham  — 
she  's  a  second  cousin,  you  know  —  it 's 
rather  amusing.  '  I  used  to  know  your 
fiance  slightly.  He  seemed  very  nice, 
but  it 's  a  long  while  ago,  and  I  never 
saw  much  of  him.  I  hope  he  is  really 
fond  of  you,  and  that  it  is  not  a  mere 
fancy.  Since  you  love  him  so  much,  it 
would  be  a  pity  if  he  did  not  care  deeply 
for  you.'  " 

"  Interpret,  Miss  Dolly,"  said  I. 


20  TJie  Dolly  Dialogues 

*' She 'tried  to  catch  him  herself,"  said 
Miss  Dolly. 

"Ah,  I  see.     Is  that  all?," 

"The  others  aren't  very  interesting." 

"Then  let's  finish  Georgy  Vane's." 

"Really?"  she  asked,  smiling. 

"Yes.     Really." 

"Oh,  if  you  don't  mind,  I  don't," 
said  she,  laughing,  and  she  hunted  out 
the  pink  note  and  spread  it  before  her. 
"  Let  me  see.  Where  was  I?  Oh, 
here.  '  I  thought  you  were  going  to  be 
silly  and  throw  away  your  chances  on 
some  of  the  men  who  used  to  flirt  with 
you.  Archie  Mickleham  may  not  be  a 
genius,  but  he  's  a  good  fellow  and  a 
swell  and  rich ;  he  's  not  a  pauper,  like 
Phil  Meadows,  or  a  snob,  like  Charlie 
Dawson,  or  —  '  shall  I  go  on,  Mr.  Carter? 
No,  I  won't.     I  did  n't  see  what  it  was." 

"  Yes,  you  shall  go  on." 

"  Oh,  no,  I  can't,"  and  she  folded  up 
the  letter. 

"  Then  I  will,"  and  I  'm  ashamed  to 
say  I  snatched  the  letter.  Miss  Dolly 
jumped  to  her  feet.  I  fled  behind  the 
table.     She  ran  round.     I  dodged. 

"  '  Or  —  '  "  I  began  to  read. 

"  Stop  !  "  cried  she. 


Cordial  Relations  21 

"  *  Or  a  young  spendthrift  like  that 
man  —  I  forget  his  name  —  whom  you 
used  to  go  on  with  at  such  a  pace  at 
Monte  Carlo  last  winter.'  " 

"  Stop  !  "  she  cried,  stamping  her  foot. 
I  read  on : 

"  '  No  doubt  he  was  charming,  my 
dear,  and  no  doubt  anybody  would 
have  thought  you  meant  it ;  but  I  never 
doubted  you.  Still  were  n't  you  just  a 
little  — '  " 

'■'  Stop  !  "  she  cried.  "You  must  stop, 
Mr.  Carter." 

So  then  I  stopped.  I  folded  the 
letter  and  handed  it  back  to  her.  Her 
cheeks  flushed   red  as  she  took  it. 

"  I  thought  you  were  a  gentleman," 
said  she,  biting  her  lip. 

"  I  was  at  Monte  Carlo  last  winter 
myself,"  said  I. 

"  Lord  Mickleham,"  said  the  butler, 
throwing  open  the  door. 


Ill 

RETRIBUTION 

In  future  I  am  going  to  be  careful 
what  I  do.  I  am  also  —  and  this  is  by 
no  means  less  important  —  going  to  be 
very  careful  what  Miss  Dolly  Foster 
does.  Everybody  knows  (if  I  may  quote 
her  particular  friend  NeUie  Phaeton) 
that  dear  Dolly  means  no  harm,  but 
she  is  "just  a  little  harumscarum."  I 
thanked  Miss  Phaeton  for  the  expres- 
sion. 

The  fact  is  that  "old  Lady  M."  (here 
I  quote  Miss  Dolly)  sent  for  me  the 
other  day.  I  have  not  the  honor  of 
knowing  the  Countess,  and  I  went  in 
some  trepidation.  When  I  was  ushered 
in,  Lady  Mickleham  put  up  her 
"  starers."  (You  know  those  abomina- 
tions !  Pi7ice-7iez  with  long  torture  —  I 
mean  tortoise  —  shell  handles.) 

"  Mr.  —  er  —  Carter  ?  "  said  she. 

I  bowed.  I  would  have  denied  it  if 
I  could. 


Retribution  23 

"  My  dears  !  "  said  Lady  Mickleham. 

Upon  this  five  young  ladies  who  had 
been  sitting  in  five  straight-backed 
chairs,  doing  five  pieces  of  embroidery, 
rose,  bowed,  and  filed  out  of  the  room. 
I  felt  very  nervous.  A  pause  followed. 
Then  the  Countess  observed  —  and  it 
seemed  at  first  rather  irrelevant  — 

"  I  've  been  reading  an  unpleasant 
story." 

"  In  these  days  of  French  influence," 
I  began  apologetically  (not  that  I  write 
such  stories,  or  indeed  any  stories,  but 
Lady  Mickleham  invites  an  apologetic 
attitude),  and  my  eye  wandered  to  the 
table.  I  saw  nothing  worse  (or  better) 
than  the  morning  paper  there. 

"  Contained  in  a  friend's  letter,"  she 
continued,  focussing  the  "  stare rs"  full 
on  my  face. 

I  did  not  know  what  to  do,  so  I  bowed 
again. 

"  It  must  have  been  as  painful  for 
her  to  write  as  for  me  to  read,"  Lady 
Mickleham  went  on.  "  And  that  is  say- 
ing much.      Be  seated,  pray." 

I  bowed,  and  sat  down  in  one  of  the 
straight -backed  chairs.  I  also  began,  in 
my  fright,  to  play  with  one  of  the  pieces 
of  embroidery. 


24  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

'^Is  Lady  Jane's  work  in  your  way?" 
(Lady  Jane  is  named  after  Jane,  the 
famous  Countess,  Lady-in-Waiting  to 
Caroline  of  Anspach.) 

I  dropped  the  embroidery,  and  put  my 
foot  on  my  hat. 

"  I  beheve,  Mr.  Carter,  that  you  are  ac- 
quainted with  Miss  Dorothea  Foster?  " 

"I  have  that  pleasure,"  said  L 

*^Who  is  about  to  be  married  to  my 
son,  the  Earl  of  Mickleham?" 

"That,  I  believe,  is  so,"  said  L  I  was 
beginning  to  pull  myself  together. 

'*My  son,  Mr.  Carter,  is  of  a  simple 
and  trusting  disposition.  Perhaps  I  had 
better  come  to  the  point.  I  am  informed 
by  this  letter  that,  in  conversation  with 
the  writer  the  other  day,  Archibald  men- 
tioned, quite  incidentally,  some  very  start- 
ling facts.  Those  facts  concern  you,  Mr. 
Carter." 

"  May  I  ask  the  name  of  the  writer?  " 

"  I  do  not  think  that  is  necessary," 
said  she.  "  She  is  a  lady  in  whom  I 
have  the  utmost  confidence." 

"That  is,  of  course,  enough,"  said  L 

"It  appears,  Mr.  Carter — and  you 
will  excuse  me  if  I  speak  plainly —  (I 
set  my  teeth)  that  you  have,  in  the  first 


Retribtition  25 

place,  given  to  my  son's  bride  a  wedding 
present,  which  I  can  only  describe  as  —  " 

"A  pearl  ornament,"  I  interposed; 
"with  a  ruby  or  two,  and  — " 

**  A  pearl  heart,"  she  corrected  ;  "  er  — 
fractured,  and  that  you  explained  that  this 
absurd  article  represented  your  heart." 

"  Mere  badinage^^'  said  I. 

"  In  execrably  bad  taste,"  said  she. 

I  bowed. 

"  In  fact,  most  offensive.  But  that  is 
not  the  worst.  From  my  son's  further 
statements  it  appears  that  on  one  occa- 
sion, at  least,  he  found  you  and  Miss 
Foster  engaged  in  what  I  can  only 
call  —  " 

I  raised  my  hand  in  protest.  The 
Countess  took  no  notice. 

'*  What  I  can  only  call  romping^ 

She  shot  this  word  at  me  with  extraor- 
dinary violence,  and  when  it  was  out  she 
shuddered. 

"  Romping  !  "  I  cried. 

**A  thing  not  only  atrociously  vulgar 
at  all  times,  but  under  the  circumstances 
—  need  I  say  more  ?  Mr.  Carter,  you 
were  engaged  in  chasing  my  son's  future 
bride  round  a  table  !  " 

"  Pardon  me,  Lady  Mickleham.     Your 


26  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

son's  future  bride  was  engaged  in  chasing 
me  round  a  table." 

"  It  is  the  same  thing,"  said  Lady 
Mickleham. 

"  I  should  have  thought  there  was  a 
distinction,"  said  I. 

''  None  at  all." 

I  fell  back  on  a  second  line  of  defence. 

*'  I  did  n't  let  her  catch  me.  Lady 
Mickleham,"  I  pleaded. 

Lady  Mickleham  grew  quite  red.  This 
made  me  feel  more  at  my  ease. 

"  No,  sir.     If  you  had  —  " 

"  Goodness  knows  !  "  I  murmured, 
shaking  my  head. 

"  As  it  happened,  however,  my  son 
entered  in  the  middle  of  this  disgrace- 
ful—" 

"  It  was  at  the  beginning,"  said  I,  with 
a  regretful  sigh. 

Upon  this  —  and  I  have  really  never 
been  so  pleased  at  anything  in  all  my 
life  —  the  Countess,  the  violence  of  her 
emotions  penetrating  to  her  very  fingers, 
gripped  the  handle  of  her  "  starers  "  with 
such  force  that  she  broke  it  in  two  !  She 
was  a  woman  of  the  world,  and  in  a  mo- 
ment she  looked  as  if  nothing  had  hap- 
pened.    With  me  it  was  different;  and 


Retribution  27 

that  I  am  not  now  on  Lady  Mickleham's 
visiting-list  is  due  to  {inter  alia  et  enor- 
7fiia)  the  fact  that  I  laughed  !  It  was 
out  before  I  could  help  it.  In  a  second 
I  was  as  grave  as  a  mute.  The  mischief 
was  done.  The  Countess  rose.  I  imi- 
tated her  example. 

"You  are  amused?"  said  she,  and  her 
tones  banished  the  last  of  my  mirth.  I 
stumbled  on  my  hat  and  it  rolled  to  her 
feet. 

"It  is  not  probable,"  she  observed, 
"  that  after  Miss  Foster's  marriage  you 
will  meet  her  often.  You  will  move  in 
—  er  —  somewhat  different  circles." 

"  I  may  catch  a  glimpse  of  her  in  her 
carriage  from  the  top  of  my  'bus,"  said  I. 

"  Your  7?iilieu  and  my  son's  —  " 

"  I  know  his  valet,  though,"  said  I. 

Lady  Mickleham  rang  the  bell.  1 
stooped  for  my  hat.  To  tell  the  truth 
I  was  rather  afraid  to  expose  myself  in 
such  a  defenceless  attitude,  but  the 
Countess  preserved  her  self-control. 
The  butler  opened  the  door.  I  bowed, 
and  left  the  Countess  regarding  me 
through  the  maimed  "  starers."  Then 
I  found  the  butler  smiling.  He  proba- 
bly knew  the    signs   of  the  weather.     1 


28  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

wouldn't  be  Lady  Mickleham's  butler  if 
you  made  me  a  duke. 

As  I  walked  home  through  the  Park  I 
met  Miss  Dolly  and  Mickleham.  They 
stopped.  I  walked  on.  Mickleham 
seized  me  by  the  coat-tails. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  cut  us?  "  he  cried. 

«  Yes,"  said  I. 

"Why,  what  the  deuce  — ?  "  he  began. 

"  I  've  seen  your  mother,"  said  I.  "  I 
wish,  Mickleham,  that  when  you  do 
happen  to  intrude  as  you  did  the  other 
day,  you  would  n't  repeat  what  you  see." 

"  Lord  !  "  he  cried.  "  She  's  not  heard 
of  that?     I  only  told  Aunt  Cynthia." 

I  said  something  about  Aunt  Cynthia. 

"  Does  —  does  she  know  it  all?  "  asked 
Miss  Dolly. 

"  More  than  all  —  much  more." 

"Didn't  you  smooth  it  over?"  said 
Miss  Dolly  reproachfully. 

"On  reflection,"  said  I,  "  I  don't  know 
that  I  did  —  much."  (I  had  n't,  you 
know.) 

Suddenly  Mickleham  burst  out  laughing. 

"  What  a  game  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"That's  all  very  well  for  you,"  said 
Dolly.  "  But  do  you  happen  to  remem- 
ber that  we  dine  there  to-night  ?  " 


Retribution  29 

Archie  grew  grave. 

"  I  hope  you  '11  enjoy  yourselves,"  said 
I.  "  I  always  cling  to  the  belief  that 
the  wicked  are  punished."  And  I  looked 
at  Miss  Dolly. 

"Never  you  mind,  little  woman,"  said 
Archie,  drawing  Miss  Dolly's  arm  through 
his.  "  I  '11  see  you  through.  After  all 
everybody  knows  that  old  Carter 's  an 
ass." 

That  piece  of  universal  knowledge  may 
help  matters,  but  I  do  not  quite  see  how. 
I  walked  on,  for  Miss  Dolly  had  quite  for- 
gotten me,  and  was  looking  up  at  Archie 
Mickleham  like  —  well,  hang  it,  in  the  way 
they  do,  you  know.     So  I  just  walked  on. 

I  believe  Miss  Dolly  has  got  a  hus- 
band who  is  (let  us  say)  good  enough  for 
her.  And,  for  one  reason  and  another, 
I  am  glad  of  it.  And  I  also  believe 
that  she  knows  it.  And  I  am  —  I  sup- 
pose—  glad  of  that  too.  Oh,  yes,  of 
course  I  am.     Of  course. 


IV 
THE  PERVERSENESS  OF  IT 

"I  TELL  you  what,  Mr.  Carter,"  said 
Miss  Nellie  Phaeton,  touching  up  Rhino 
with  her  whip,  "  love  in  a  cottage  is  —  " 

"  Lord  forgive  us,  cinders,  ashes,  dust," 
I  quoted. 

We  were  spanking  round  the  Park  be- 
hind Ready  and  Rhino.  Miss  Phaeton's 
horses  are  very  large ;  her  groom  is  very 
small,  and  her  courage  is  indomitable. 
I  am  no  great  hand  at  driving  myself, 
and  I  am  not  always  quite  comfortable. 
Moreover,  the  stricter  part  of  my  ac- 
quaintance consider,  I  beUeve,  that  Miss 
Phaeton's  attentions  to  me  are  somewhat 
pronounced,  and  that  I  ought  not  to 
drive  with  her  in  the  Park. 

"  You  're  right,"  she  went  on.  "  What 
a  girl  wants  is  a  good  house  and  lots  of 
cash,  and  some  ridin'  and  a  little  huntin' 
and  —  " 

"  A  few  '  g's  '  !  "  I  cried  in  shuddering 
entreaty.  "If  you  love  me,  a  'g'  or 
two." 


The  Pei'verseness  of  it  31 

"Well,  I  suppose  so,"  said  she.  ''  You 
can  't  go  ridin'  without  gees,  can  you?  " 

Apparently  one  could  go  driving  with- 
out any,  but  I  did  not  pursue  the  subject. 

"  It 's  only  in  stories  that  people  are  in 
love  when  they  marry,"  observed  Miss 
Phaeton  reflectively. 

"  Yes,  and  then  it 's  generally  with 
somebody  else,"  said  I. 

"Oh,  if  you  count  that!'''  said  she,  hit- 
ting Ready  rather  viciously.  We  bounded 
forward,  and  I  heard  the  little  groom 
bumping  on  the  back  seat.  I  am  always 
glad  not  to  be  a  groom  —  it 's  a  cup-and- 
ball  sort  of  life,  which  must  be  very 
wearying. 

"Were  you  ever  in  love?  "  she  asked, 
just  avoiding  a  brougham  which  con- 
tained the  Duchess  of  Dexminster.  (If, 
by  the  way,  I  have  to  run  into  any  one, 
I  like  it  to  be  a  Duchess  :  you  get  a  much 
handsomer  paragraph.) 

"  Yes,"  said  I. 

"Often?" 

"  Oh,  not  too  often,  and  I  always  take 
great  care,  you  know." 

"  What  of?  " 

"That  it  shall  be  quite  out  of  the 
question,  you  know.     It 's  not  at  all  dif- 


32  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

ficult.  I  only  have  to  avoid  persons  of 
moderate  means." 

"  But  are  n't  you  a  person  of—  ?  " 

*'  Exactly.  That 's  why.  So  I  choose 
either  a  pauper  —  when  it 's  impossible 
—  or  an  heiress  —  when  it 's  preposter- 
ous.    See?" 

"  But  don 't  you  ever  want  to  get  —  " 
began  Miss  Phaeton. 

"  Let 's  talk  about  something  else," 
said  I. 

'*  I  believe  you  're  humbuggin'  me," 
said  Miss  Phaeton. 

*'  I  am  offering  a  veiled  apology," 
said  I. 

''  Stuff  !  "  said  she.  ''  You  know  you 
told  Dolly  Foster  that  I  should  make  an 
excellent  wife  for  a  trainer." 

Oh,  these  women  !  A  man  had  better 
talk  to  a  phonograph. 

^'  Or  anybody  else,"  said  I  politely. 

Miss  Phaeton  whipped  up  her  horses. 

"  Look  out  !  There  's  the  mounted 
policeman,"  I  cried. 

"  No,  he  isn  't.  Are  you  afraid  ?  "  she 
retorted. 

''  I  'm  not  fit  to  die,"  I  pleaded. 

*'  I  don  't  care  a  pin  for  your  opinion, 
you  know,"  she  continued   (I  had  never 


The  Perverseness  of  it  33 

supposed  that  she  did)  ;  "  but  what  did 
you  mean  by  it?  " 

"  I  never  said  it." 

"  Oh  !  " 

"All  right  —  I  never  did." 

"Then  Dolly  invented  it?  " 

"  Of  course,"  said  I  steadily. 

"  On  your  honor?  " 

"  Oh,  come.  Miss  Phaeton  !  " 

"Would — would  other  people  think 
so?"  she  asked,  with  a  highly  surprising 
touch  of  timidity. 

"  Nobody  would,"  I  said.  "Only  a 
snarling  old  wretch  would  say  so,  just 
because  he  thought  it  smart." 

There  was  a  long  pause.  Then  Miss 
Phaeton  asked  me  abruptly : 

"  You  never  met  him,  did  you  ?  " 

"No." 

A  pause  ensued.  We  passed  the 
Duchess  again,  and  scratched  the  nose  of 
her  poodle,  which  was  looking  out  of  the 
carriage  window.  Miss  Phaeton  flicked 
Rhino,  and  the  groom  behind  went  plop- 
plop  on  the  seat. 

"  He  lives  in  town,  you  know,"  re- 
marked Miss  Phaeton. 

"  They  mostly  do  —  and  write  about  the 
country,"  said  I. 

3 


34  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

*MVhy  shouldn't  they?"  she  asked 
fiercely. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Phaeton,  by  all  means 
let  them,"  said  I. 

"  He  's  awfully  clever  you  know,"  she 
continued;  "but  he  wouldn't  always 
talk.  Sometimes  he  just  sat  and  said 
nothin',  or  read  a  book." 

A  sudden  intuition  discovered  Mr. 
Gay's  feelings  to  me. 

"You  were  talking  about  the  run,  or 
something,  I  suppose?" 

"  Yes,  or  the  bag,  you  know." 

As  she  spoke  she  pulled  up  Ready  and 
Rhino.  The  Uttle  groom  jumped  down 
and  stood  under  (not  at)  their  heads.  I 
leant  back  and  surveyed  the  crowd  sit- 
ting and  walking.  Miss  Phaeton  flicked 
a  fly  off  Rhino's  ear,  put  her  whip  in  the 
socket,  and  leant  back  also. 

"  Then  I  suppose  you  didn  't  care 
much  about  him?"  I  asked. 

"Oh,  I  liked  him  pretty  well,"  she 
answered  very  carelessly. 

At  this  moment,  looking  along  the 
walk,  I  saw  a  man  coming  towards  us. 
He  was  a  handsome  fellow,  with  just  a 
touch  of  "  softness  "in  his  face.  He  was 
dressed  in  correct  fashion,  save  that  his 


The  Perverseness  of  it  35 

hair  was  a  trifle  longer,  his  coat  a  trifle 
fuller,  his  hat  a  trifle  larger,  his  tie  a  trifle 
looser  than  they  were  worn  by  most.  He 
caught  my  attention,  and  I  went  on  look- 
ing at  him  for  a  little  while,  till  a  slight 
movement  of  my  companion's  made  me 
turn  my  head. 

Miss  Phaeton  was  sitting  bolt  upright : 
she  fidgeted  with  the  reins  ;  she  took  her 
whip  out  of  the  socket  and  put  it  back 
again  ;  and,  to  my  amazement,  her  cheeks 
were  very  red. 

Presently  the  man  came  opposite  the 
carriage.  Miss  Phaeton  bowed.  He 
lifted  his  hat,  smiled,  and  made  as  if  to 
pass  on.  Miss  Phaeton  held  out  her 
hand.  I  could  see  a  momentary  gleam 
of  surprise  in  his  eye,  as  though  he 
thought  her  cordiality  more  than  he 
might  have  looked  for  —  possibly  even 
more  than  he  cared  about.  But  he 
stopped  and  shook  hands. 

"How  are  you,  Mr.  Gay?"  she  said, 
not  introducing  me. 

"  Still  with  your  inseparables  !  "  he 
said,  gayly,  with  a  wave  of  his  hand  to- 
wards the  horses.  "  I  hope.  Miss  Phae- 
ton, that  in  the  next  world  your  faithful 
steeds  will  be  allowed  to  bear  you  com- 
pany, or  what  will  you  do?  " 


36  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  Oh,  you  think  I  care  for  nothin'  but 
horses?"  said  she,  petulantly,  but  she 
leant  towards  him,  and  gave  me  her 
shoulder. 

"  Oh,  no,"  he  laughed.  *'  Dogs  also, 
and,  I  'm  afraid,  one  day  it  was  ferrets, 
wasn't  it?  " 

"  Have  —  have  you  written  any  poetry 
lately?"  she  asked. 

*'  How  conscientious  of  you  to  in- 
quire !  "  he  exclaimed,  his  eyes  twink- 
ling. ''  Oh,  yes,  half  a  hundred  things. 
Have  you  —  killed  —  anything  lately  ?  " 

I  could  swear  she  flushed  again.  Her 
voice  trembled  as  she  answered  : 

"  No,  not  lately." 

I  caught  sight  of  his  face  behind  her 
back,  and  I  thought  I  saw  a  trace  of 
puzzle  —  nothing  more.  He  held  out  his 
hand. 

"  Well,  so  glad  to  have  seen  you.  Miss 
Phaeton,"  said  he,  "  but  I  must  run  on. 
Good-by." 

"  Good-by,  Mr.  Gay,"  said  she. 

And,  lifting  his  hat  again,  smiling  again 
gayly,  he  was  gone.  For  a  moment  or 
two  I  said  nothing.    Then  I  remarked  : 

"So  that's  your  friend  Gay,  is  it? 
He  's  not  a  bad-looking  fellow." 


The  Perverseness  of  it  37 

"  Yes,  that 's  him,"  said  she,  and,  as 
she  spoke,  she  sank  back  in  her  seat  for 
a  moment.  I  did  not  look  at  her  face. 
Then  she  sat  up  straight  again  and  took 
the  whip. 

"Want  to  stay  any  longer?"  she 
asked. 

"  No,"  said  I. 

The  little  groom  sprang  away,  Rhino 
and  Ready  dashed  ahead. 

"Shall  I  drop  you  at  the  club?"  she 
asked.     "  I  'm  goin'  home." 

"I'll  get  out  here,"  said  I. 

We  came  to  a  stand  again,  and  I  got 
down. 

"  Good-by,"  I  said. 

She  nodded  at  me,  but  said  nothing. 
A  second  later  the  carriage  was  tearing 
down  the  road,  and  the  little  groom  hang- 
ing on  for  dear  life. 

Of  course  it 's  all  nonsense.  She  's  not 
the  least  suited  to  him  ;  she  'd  make  him 
miserable,  and  then  be  miserable  herself. 
But  it  seems  a  little  perverse,  does  n't  it? 
In  fact,  twice  at  least  between  the  courses 
at  dinner  I  caught  myself  being  sorry  for 
her.  It  is,  when  you  think  of  it,  so  re- 
markably perverse. 


V 

A    MATTER    OF    DUTY 

Lady  Mickleham  is  back  from  her 
honeymoon.  I  mean  young  Lady  Mickle- 
ham  —  Dolly  Foster  (well,  of  course  I 
do.  -Fancy  the  Dowager  on  a  honey- 
moon!). She  signified  the  fact  to  me 
by  ordering  me  to  call  on  her  at  tea- 
time  ;  she  had,  she  said,  something  which 
she  wished  to  consult  me  about  confiden- 
tially.    I  went. 

"  I  did  n't  know  you  were  back,"  I 
observed. 

"  Oh,  we  've  been  back  a  fortnight, 
but  we  went  down  to  The  Towers.  They 
were  all  there,  Mr.  Carter." 

"All  who?" 

"  x\ll  Archie's  people.  The  Dowager 
said  we  must  get  really  to  know  one 
another  as  soon  as  possible.  I  'm  not 
sure  I  like  really  knowing  people.  It 
means  that  they  say  whatever  they  like 
to  you,  and  don't  get  up  out  of  your 
favorite  chair  when  you  come  in." 


A  Matter  of  Duty  39 

"I  agree,"  said  I,  "that  a  soup<;on  of 
unfamiliarity  is  not  amiss." 

"  Of  course  it 's  nice  to  be  one  of  the 
family,"  she  continued. 

"The  cat  is  that,"  said  I.  "I  would 
not  give  a  fig  for  it." 

"  And  the  Dowager  taught  me  the 
ways  of  the  house." 

"  Ah,  she  taught  me  the  way  out  of  it." 

"  And  showed  me  how  to  be  most  dis- 
agreeable to  the  servants." 

"  It  is  the  first  lesson  of  a  house- 
keeper." 

"  And  told  me  what  Archie  particu- 
larly liked,  and  how  bad  it  was  for  him, 
poor  boy." 

"What  should  we  do  without  our 
mothers?  I  do  not,  however,  see  how  I 
can  help  in  all  this.  Lady  Mickleham." 

"  How  funny  that  sounds  !  " 

"Aren't  you  accustomed  to  your  dig- 
nity yet?" 

"  I  meant  from  you,  Mr.  Carter." 

I  smiled.  That  is  Dolly's  way.  As 
Miss  Phaeton  says,  she  means  no  harm, 
and  it  is  admirably  conducive  to  the 
pleasure   of  a  tete-a-tete. 

"  It  was  n't  that  I  wanted  to  ask  you 
about,"  she  continued,  after  she  had  in- 


40  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

dulged  in  a  pensive  sigh  (with  a  duti- 
fully bright  smile  and  a  glance  at  Archie's 
photograph  to  follow.  Her  behavior  al- 
ways reminds  me  of  a  varied  and  well- 
assorted  memi) .  "  It  was  about  some- 
thing much  more  difficult.  You  won't  tell 
Archie,   will   you?" 

"This  becomes  interesting."  I  re- 
marked,   putting    my    hat    down. 

"  You  know,  Mr.  Carter,  that  before 
I  was  married  —  oh,  how  long  ago  it 
seems  !  " 

"Not  at  all." 

*'  Don't  interrupt.  That  before  I  was 
married  I  had  several  —  that  is  to  say, 
several  —  well,  several  —  " 

"  Start  quite  afresh,"  I  suggested  en- 
couragingly. 

"  Well,  then,  several  men  were  silly 
enough  to  think  themselves  —  you  know." 

"  No  one  better,"  I  assented  cheer- 
fully. 

"  Oh,  if  you  won't  be  sensible  !  — 
Well,  you  see,  many  of  them  are  Archie's 
friends  as  well  as  mine ;  and,  of  course, 
they  've  been  to  call." 

"  It  is  but  good  manners,"  said  I. 

"  One  of  them  waited  to  be  sent  for, 
though." 


A  Matter  of  Duty  41 

"  Leave  that  fellow  out,"  said  I. 

"  What  I  want  to  ask  you  is  this  —  and 
I  believe  you  're  not  silly,  really,  you 
know,  except  when  you  choose  to  be." 

"  Walk  in  the  Row  any  afternoon," 
said  I,  *'  and  you  won't  find  ten  wiser 
men." 

"  It 's  this.     Ought  I  to  tell  Archie?  " 

"  Good  gracious  !  Here 's  a  prob- 
lem !  " 

"Of  course,"  pursued  Lady  Mickle- 
ham,  opening  her  fan,  "  it 's  in  some 
ways  more  comfortable  that  he  should  n't 
know." 

"For  him?" 

"  Yes  —  and  for  me.  But  then  it 
doesn't    seem  quite  fair." 

"To  him?" 

"  Yes  —  and  to  me.  Because  if  he 
came  to  know  from  anybody  else,  he 
might  exaggerate  the  things,  you  know." 

"  Impossible  !  " 

"Mr.  Carter!" 

"I  —  er  —  mean  he  knows  you  to  weU 
to  do  such  a  thing." 

"  Oh,  I  see.  Thank  you.  Yes.  What 
do  you  think  ?  " 

"  What  does  the  Dowager  say  ?  " 

"  I  have  n't  mentioned  it  to  the  Dow- 
ager." 


42  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

*'But  surely,  on  such  a  point,  her  ex- 
perience —  " 

"She  can't  have  any,"  said  Lady 
Mickleham  decisively.  "  I  believe  in 
her  husband,  because  I  must.  But  no- 
body else  !  You  're  not  giving  me  your 
opinion." 

I  reflected  for  a  moment. 

"  Have  n't  we  left  out  one  point  of 
view?"  I  ventured  to  suggest. 

"  I  've  thought  it  all  over  very  care- 
fully," said  she ;  "  both  as  it  would  af- 
fect me  and  as  it  would  affect  Archie." 

"  Quite  so.  Now  suppose  you  think 
how  it  would  affect  them  !  " 

"Who?" 

"  Why,  the  men." 

Lady  Mickleham  put  down  her  cup 
of  tea. 

"  What  a  very  curious  idea !  "  she 
exclaimed. 

**  Give  it  time  to  sink  in,"  said  I,  help- 
ing myself  to  another  piece  of  toast. 

She  sat  silent  for  a  few  moments  — 
presumably  to  allow  of  the  permeation 
I  suggested.  I  finished  my  tea  and  leant 
back  comfortably.     Then  I  said, 

"  Let  me  take  my  own  case.  Should  n't 
I  feel  rather  awkward  —  ?  " 


A  Matter  of  Duty  43 

"  Oh,  it 's  no  good  taking  your  case," 
she  interrupted. 

'*  Why  not  mine  as  well  as  another?  " 

"  Because  I  told  him  about  you  long 
ago." 

I  was  not  surprised.  But  I  could  not 
permit  Lady  Mickleham  to  laugh  at  me 
in  the  unconscionable  manner  in  which 
she  proceeded  to  laugh.  I  spread  out 
my  hands  and  observed  blandly, 

"Why  not  be  guided  — as  to  the  others, 
I  mean —  by  your  husband's  example?  " 

"  Archie's  example  ?     What 's  that  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know ;  but  you  do,  I  sup- 
pose." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Carter?" 
she  asked,  sitting  upright. 

"  Well,  has  he  ever  told  you  about 
Maggie  Adeane?" 

"  I  never  heard  of  her." 

"Or  Lilly  Courtenay?" 

"r/z^/girl  !" 

"Or  Alice  Layton?" 

"The  red-haired  Layton?" 

"Or  Florence  Cunliffe?" 

"Who  was  she?  " 

"Or  Millie  Trehearne?" 

"  She  squints,  Mr.  Carter." 

"Or  —  " 


44  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  Stop,  stop  !  What  do  you  mean  ? 
What  should  he  tell  me?" 

"  Oh,  I  see  he  has  n't.  Nor,  I  sup- 
pose, about  Sylvia  Fenton,  or  that  little 
Delancy  girl,  or  handsome  Miss  —  what 
was  her  name?  " 

''  Hold  your  tongue  —  and  tell  me 
what  you  mean." 

"  Lady  Mickleham,"  said  I  gravely, 
"  if  your  husband  has  not  thought  fit 
to  mention  these  ladies  —  and  others 
whom  I  could  name  —  to  you,  how  could 
I  presume  —  ?" 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that 
Archie  —  ?" 

"  He  'd  only  known  you  three  years, 
you  see." 

"  Then  it  was  before  — ?  " 

"Some  of  them  were  before,"  said  I. 

Lady  Mickleham  drew  a  long  breath. 

*'  Archie  will  be  in  soon,"  said  she. 

I  took  my  hat. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  I  observed,  "that 
what  is  sauce  —  that,  I  should  say,  hus- 
band and  wife  ought  to  stand  on  an 
equal  footing  in  these  matters.  Since 
he  has  —  no  doubt  for  good  reasons  — 
not  mentioned  to  you  —  " 

"  Alice  Layton  was  a  positive  fright." 


A  Matter  of  Duty  45 

"She  came  last,"  said  I.  "Just  be- 
fore you,  you  know.  However,  as  I  was 
saying  —  " 

"And  that  horrible  Sylvia  Fenton  —  " 

"  Oh,  he  could  n't  have  known  you 
long  then.  As  I  was  saying,  I  should, 
if  I  were  you,  treat  him  as  he  has  treated 
you.  In  my  case  it  seems  to  be  too 
late." 

"  I  'm  sorry  I  told  him  that." 

"  Oh,  pray  don't  mind,  it 's  of  no  con- 
sequence.    As  to  the  others  —  " 

"  I  should  never  have  thought  it  of 
Archie  !  " 

"  One  never  knows,"  said  I,  with  an 
apologetic  smile.  "  I  don't  suppose  he 
thinks  it  of  you." 

"  I  won't  tell  him  a  single  word.  He 
may  find  out  if  he  likes.  Who  was  the 
last  girl  you  mentioned  ?  " 

"  Is  it  any  use  trying  to  remember  all 
their  names?"  I  asked  in  a  soothing 
tone.  "  No  doubt  he 's  forgotten  them 
by  now — just  as  you've  forgotten  the 
others." 

"And  the  Dowager  told  me  that  he 
had  never  had  an  attachment  before." 

"  Oh,  if  the  Dowager  said  that !  Of 
course,  the  Dowager  would  know  !  " 


46  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  Don't  be  so  silly,  for  goodness  sake  ! 
Are  you  going?  " 

"  Certainly  I  am.  It  might  annoy 
Archie  to  find  me  here  when  he  wants 
to  talk  to  you." 

"  Well,  I  want  to  talk  to  him." 

"  Of  course  you  won't  repeat  what 
I've  —  " 

"  I  shall  find  out  for  myself,"  she  said. 

*'  Good-by.  I  hope  I  've  removed  all 
your  troubles?" 

*'  Oh,  yes,  thank  you.  I  know  what 
to  do  now,  Mr.  Carter." 

*'  Always  send  for  me  if  you  're  in  any 
trouble.     I  have  some  exp —  " 

''  Good-by,  Mr.  Carter." 

"  Good-by,  Lady  Mickleham.  And 
remember  that  Archie,  hke  you  —  " 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  I  know.     Must  you  go?  " 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  must.  I  've  enjoyed  our 
talk  so  — " 

*' There 's  Archie's  step." 

I  left  the  room.  On  the  stairs  I  met 
Archie.  I  shook  hands  sympathetically. 
I  was  sorry  for  Archie.  But  in  great 
causes  the  individual  cannot  be  consider- 
ed.    I  had  done  my  duty  to  my  sex. 


VI 

MY   LAST   CHANCE 

"  Now  mind,"  said  Mrs.    Hilary  Mus- 
grave,    impressively,     "  this    is    the    last 
time  I  shall  take  any  trouble  about  you. 
She  's  a  very  nice  girl,  quite  pretty,  and 
she  '11   have  a  lot   of  money.     You   can 
be  very  pleasant  when  you  like  —  " 
*'  This  unsoHcited  testimonial  —  " 
"  Which  is  n't  often  —  and  if  you  don't 
do  it  this  time  I  wash  my  hands  of  you. 
Why,  how  old  are  you?  " 
"Hush,  Mrs.  Hilary." 
"  You  must  be  nearly  —  " 
"  It 's  false  —  false  —  false  !  " 
"  Come  along,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary,  and 
she  added,  over  her  shoulder,  "she  has 
a  slight  north-country  accent." 

"  It  might  have  been  Scotch,"  said  I. 
"She  plays  the  piano  a  good  deal." 
"  It    might     have    been    the    fiddle," 
said  I. 

"  She  's  very  fond  of  Browning." 
"  It  might  have  been  Ibsen,"  said  I, 


48  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

Mrs.  Hilary,  seeing  that  I  was  de- 
termined to  look  on  the  bright  side, 
smiled  graciously  on  me  and  introduced 
me  to  the  young  Jady.  She  was  de- 
cidedly good-looking,  fresh  and  sincere 
of  aspect,  with  large  inquiring  eyes  — 
eyes  which  I  felt  would  demand  a  little 
too  much  of  me  at  breakfast  —  but  then 
a  large  tea-urn  puts  that  all  right. 

"Miss  Sophia  Milton  —  Mr.  Carter," 
said  Mrs.  Hilary,  and  left  us. 

Well,  we  tried  the  theatres  first ;  but 
as  she  had  only  been  to  the  Lyceum 
and  I  had  only  been  to  the  Gaiety,  we 
soon  got  to  the  end  of  that.  Then  we 
tried  Art :  she  asked  me  what  I  thought 
of  Degas :  I  evaded  the  question  by 
criticising  a  drawing  of  a  horse  in  last 
week's  Punch  —  which  she  had  n't  seen. 
Upon  this  she  started  literature.  She 
said  "Some  Qualms  and  a  Shiver"  was 
the  book  of  the  season.  I  put  my  money 
on  "The  Queen  of  the  Quorn."  Dead 
stop  again !  And  I  saw  Mrs.  Hilary's 
eye  upon  me  :  there  was  wrath  in  her 
face.     Something  must  be  done. 

A  brilliant  idea  seized  me.  I  had 
read  that  four-fifths  of  the  culture  of 
England  were  Conservative.     I  also  was 


My  Last  Chance  49 

a  Conservative.  It  was  four  to  one  on  ! 
I  started  politics.  I  could  have  whooped 
for  joy  when  I  elicited  something  par- 
ticularly incisive  about  the  ignorance  of 
the  masses. 

"  I  do  hope  you  agree  with  me,"  said 
Miss  Milton.  "The  more  one  reads 
and  thinks,  the  more  one  sees  how  fatally 
false  a  theory  it  is  that  the  ignorant 
masses  —  people  such  as  I  have  described 
—  can  ever  rule  a  great  Empire." 

"  The  Empire  wants  gentlemen  ;  that 's 
what  it  wants,"  said  I,  nodding  my  head, 
and  glancing  triumphantly  at  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"Men  and  women,"  said  she,  "who 
are  acquainted  with  the  best  that  has 
been  said  and  thought  on  all  important 
subjects." 

At  the  time  I  believed  this  observation 
to  be  original,  but  I  have  since  been  told 
that  it  was  borrowed.  I  was  delighted 
with  it. 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "and  have  got  a  stake 
in  the  country,  you  know,  and  know  how 
to  behave  'emselves  in  the  House,  don't 
you  know?  " 

"  What  we  have  to  do,"  pursued  Miss 
Milton,  "  is  to  guide  the  voters.     These 
poor  rustics  need  to  be  informed — ■" 
4 


50  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

''Just  so,"  I  broke  in.  "They  have 
to  be  told  —  " 

"  Of  the  real  nature  of  the  ques- 
tions —  " 

"  And  which  candidate  to  support." 

*'  Or  they  must  infalhbly  —  "  she  ex- 
claimed. 

"  Get  their  marching  orders,"  I  cried, 
in  rapture.  It  was  exactly  what  I  always 
did  on  my  small  property. 

''  Oh,  I  did  n't  quite  mean  that,"  she 
said  reproachfully. 

"  Oh,  well,  neither  did  I  —  quite,"  I 
responded  adroitly.  What  was  wrong 
with  the  girl  now? 

"  But  with  the  help  of  the  League  —  " 
she  went  on. 

"Do  you  belong?"  I  cried,  more 
delighted  than   ever. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  said  she.  "  I  think  it  's 
a  duty.  I  worked  very  hard  at  the  last 
election.  I  spent  days  distributing 
packages  of — " 

Then  I  made,  I  'm  sorry  to  say,  a  false 
step.     I  observed,  interrupting  : 

"But  it 's  ticklish  work  now,  eh?  Six 
months'  '  hard '  would  n't  be  pleasant, 
would  it?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Mr.  —  er  — 
Carter?  "  she  asked. 


My  Last  Chance  51 

I  was  still  blind.  I  believe  I  winked, 
and  I  'm  sure  I  whispered,  ^'  Tea^ 

Miss  Milton  drew  herself  up  very 
straight. 

"I  do  not  bribe,''  she  said.  "What  I 
distribute  is  pamphlets." 

Now  I  suppose  that  "  pamphlets  "  and 
"  blankets  "  don't  really  sound  much  alike, 
but  I  was  agitated. 

"  Quite  right,"  said  I.  "  Poor  old 
things !  They  can't  afford  proper 
fuel." 

She  rose  to  her  feet. 

"  I  was  not  joking,"  she  said  with 
horrible   severity. 

"  Neither  was  I,"  I  declared  in  humble 
apology.     "  Did  n't  you  say  '  blankets  '  ?  " 

"  Pamphlets r 

«  Oh  !  " 

There  was  a  long  pause.  I  glanced  at 
Mrs.  Hilary.  Things  had  not  fallen  out 
as  happily  as  they  might,  but  I  did  not 
mean  to  give  up  yet. 

"  I  see  you  're  right,"  I  said,  still  hum- 
bly. *'To  descend  to  such  means  as  I 
had  in  my  mind  is  —  " 

"To  throw  away  our  true  weapons," 
said  she  earnestly.  (She  sat  down  again 
—  good  sign.) 


52  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"What  we  really  need —  "  I  began. 

"  Is  a  reform  of  the  upper  classes," 
said  she.  "  Let  thern  give  an  example  of 
duty,  of  self-denial,  of  frugality." 

I  was  not  to  be  caught  out  again. 

"Just  what  I  always  say,"  I  observed 
impressively. 

"  Let  them  put  away  their  horse- rac- 
ing, their  betting,  their  luxurious  living, 
their  —  " 

"  You  're  right.  Miss  Milton,"  said  I. 

"  Let  them  set  an  example  of  moral- 
ity." 

"They  should,"  I  assented. 

Miss  Milton  smiled. 

"  I  thought  we  agreed  really,"  said 
she. 

"  I  'm  sure  we  do,"  cried  I ;  and  I 
winked  with  my  "off"  eye  at  Mrs. 
Hilary  as  I  sat  down  beside  Miss  Milton. 

"  Now  I  heard  of  a  man  the  other 
day,"  said  she,  "  who  's  nearly  40.  He  's 
got  an  estate  in  the  country.  He  never 
goes  there,  except  for  a  few  days'  shoot- 
ing. He  lives  in  town.  He  spends  too 
much.  He  passes  an  absolutely  vacant 
existence  in  a  round  of  empty  gayety. 
He  has  by  no  means  a  good  reputation. 
He  dangles  about,  wasting  his  time  and 


My  Last  Chance  53 

his  money.  Is  that  the  sort  of  exam- 
ple—?" 

"  He  's  a  traitor  to  his  class,"  said  I 
warmly. 

"  If  you  want  him,  you  must  look  on  a 
race -course,  or  at  a  tailor's,  or  in  some 
fashionable  woman's  boudoir.  And  his 
estate  looks  after  itself.  He  's  too  selfish 
to  marry,  too  idle  to  work,  too  silly  to 
think." 

I  began  to  be  sorry  for  this  man,  in 
spite  of  his  peccadilloes. 

"I  wonder  if  I've  met  him,"  said  I. 
"  I  'm  occasionally  in  town,  when  I  can 
get  time  to  run  up.     What 's  his  name  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  I  heard  —  or  I  've  for- 
gotten. But  he  's  got  the  place  next  to 
a  friend  of  mine  in  the  country,  and  she 
told  me  all  about  him.  She  's  exactly 
the  opposite  sort  of  person  —  or  she 
wouldn't  be  my  friend." 

"I  should  think  not,  Miss  Milton," 
said  I  admiringly. 

''  Oh,  I  should  like  to  meet  that  man, 
and  tell  him  what  I  think  of  him  !  "  said 
she.  "  Such  men  as  he  is  do  more  harm 
than  a  dozen  agitators.  So  contemptible, 
too  !  " 

"  It 's  revolting  to  think  of,"  said  I. 


54  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"I'm  so  glad  you — "  began  Miss 
Milton,  quite  confidentially;  I  pulled 
my  chair  a  trifle  closer,  and  cast  an  ap- 
parently careless  glance  towards  Mrs. 
Hilary.  Suddenly  I  heard  a  voice  be- 
hind me. 

"Eh,  what?  Upon  my  honor  it  is! 
Why,  Carter,  my  boy,  how  are  you? 
Eh,  what?  Miss  Milton,  too,  I  declare  ! 
Well,  now,  what  a  pity  Annie  didn't 
come  !  " 

I  disagreed.  I  hate  Annie.  But  I 
was  very  glad  to  see  my  friend  and 
neighbor,  Robert  Dinnerly.  He  's  a  sen- 
sible man  —  his  wife  's  a  little  prig. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Dinnerly,"  cried  Miss  Mil- 
ton, "  how  funny  that  you  should  come 
just  now  !  I  was  just  trying  to  remem- 
ber the  name  of  a  man  Mrs.  Dinnerly 
told  me  about.  I  was  telling  Mr.  Carter 
about  him.     You  know  him." 

"Well,  Miss  Milton,  perhaps  I  do. 
Describe  him." 

"  I  don't  believe  Annie  ever  told  me 
his  name,  but  she  was  talking  about  him 
at  our  house  yesterday." 

"  But  I  was  n't  there.  Miss  Milton." 

"  No,"  said  Miss  Milton,  "  but  he  's  got 
the  next  place  to  yours  in  the  country." 


My  Last  Chance  55 

I  positively  leapt  from  my  seat. 

*'  Why,  good  gracious,  Carter  himself, 
you  mean  I "  cried  Dinnerly,  laughing. 
"  Well,  that  is  a  good  'un  —  ha-ha-ha  !  " 

She  turned  a  stony  glare  on  me. 

"  Do  you  live  next  to  Mr.  Dinnerly  in 
the  country?"  she  asked. 

I  would  have  denied  it  if  Dinnerly 
had  not  been  there.  As  it  was  I  blew 
my  nose. 

*'  I  wonder,"  said  Miss  Milton,  "  what 
has  become  of  Aunt  Emily." 

"  Miss  Milton,"  said  I,  "  by  a  happy 
chance  you  have  enjoyed  a  luxury.  You 
have  told  the  man  what  you  think  of 
him." 

**  Yes,"  said  she  ;  "  and  I  have  only  to 
add  that  he  is  also  a  hypocrite." 

Pleasant,  was  n't  it?  Yet  Mrs.  Hilary 
says  it  was  my  fault !  That 's  a  woman 
all  over ! 


VII 
THE    LITTLE   WRETCH! 

Seeing  that  little  Johnny  Tompkins 
was  safely  out  of  the  country,  under  in- 
junctions to  make  a  new  man  of  himself, 
and  to  keep  that  new  man,  when  made^ 
at  the  Antipodes,  I  could  not  see  any- 
thing indiscreet  in  touching  on  the  mat- 
ter in  the  course  of  conversation  with 
Mrs.  Hilary  Musgrave.  In  point  of  fact, 
I  was  curious  to  find  out  what  she  knew, 
and,  supposing  she  knew,  what  she 
thought.  So  I  mentioned  little  Johnny 
Tompkins. 

"  Oh,  the  little  wretch  !  "  cried  Mrs. 
Hilary.  "  You  know  he  came  here  two 
or  three  times?  Anybody  can  impose 
on  Hilary." 

"  Happy  woman  !  I  —  I  mean  un- 
happy man,  Mrs.  Hilary." 

"And  how  much  was  it  he  stole?"     - 

"Hard  on  a  thousand,"  said  I.  "For 
a  time,  you  know,  he  was  quite  a  man  of 
fashion." 


The  Little   Wretch  57 

"Oh,  I  know.  He  came  here  in  his 
own  hansom,  perfectly  dressed,  and  —  " 

"  Behaved  all  right,  did  n't  he?  " 

"Yes.  Of  course  there  was  a  some- 
thing." 

"  Or  you  would  n't  have  been  de- 
ceived !  "    said  I,  with*  a  smile. 

"  I  was  n't  deceived,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary, 
an  admirable  flush  appearing  on  her 
cheeks. 

"That  is  to  say,  Hilary  wouldn't." 

"  Oh,  Hilary  !  Why  did  n't  his  em- 
ployers prosecute  him,  Mr.  Carter?" 

"  In  the  first  place,  he  had  that  ines- 
timable advantage  in  a  career  of  dishon- 
esty—  respectable  relations." 

"Well,  but  still  —  " 

"  His  widowed  mother  was  a  trump, 
you  know." 

"  Do  you  mean  a  good  woman?  " 

"  Doubtless  she  was ;  but  I  meant  a 
good  card.  However,  there  was  another 
reason." 

"I  can't  see  any,"  declared  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  I  'm  going  to  surprise  you,"  said  I. 
"  Hilary  interceded  for  him." 

"Hilary?" 

"  You  did  n't  know  it !  I  thought  not. 
Well,  he  did." 


58  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

'MVhy,  he  always  pretended  to  want 
him  to  be  convicted." 

"  Cunning  Hilary  !  "  said  I. 

*'  He  used  to  speak  most  strongly 
against  him." 

*•  That  was  his  guile,"  said  I. 

*' Oh,  but  why  m  the  world  —  ?"  she 
began ;  then  she  paused,  and  went  on 
again :  "  It  was  nothing  to  do  with 
Hilary." 

"  Hilary  went  with  me  to  see  him,  you 
know,  while  they  had  him  under  lock  and 
key  at  the  firm's  offices." 

"  Did  he?     I  never  heard  that." 

"  And  he  was  much  impressed  with  his 
bearing." 

"Well,  I  suppose,  Mr.  Carter,  that  if 
he  was  really  penitent  —  " 

"  Never  saw  a  man  less  penitent,"  I 
interrupted.  "  He  gloried  in  his  crime  ; 
if  I  remember  his  exact  expression,  it 
was  that  the  jam  was  jolly  well  worth 
the  powder,  and  if  they  liked  to  send 
him  to  chokee  they  could  and  be  —  and 
suffer  accordingly,  you  know." 

"  And  after  that,  Hilary—  !  " 

"  Oh,  anybody  can  impose  on  Hilary, 
you  know.  Hilary  only  asked  what  *  the 
jam  '  was." 


The  Little   Wretch  59 

«'  It 's  a  horrid  expression,  but  I  sup- 
pose it  meant  acting  the  part  of  a  gen- 
tleman, didn't  it?  " 

"  Not  entirely.  According  to  what  he 
told  Hilary,  Johnny  was  in  love." 

"  Oh,  and  he  stole  for  some  wretched —  ?" 

"  Now,  do  be  careful.  What  do  you 
know  about  the  lady?" 

'^The  lady  I  I  can  imagine  Johnny 
Tompkins's  ideal  !  " 

"  So  can  I,  if  you  come  to  that." 

"  And  she  must  have  known  his  money 
was  n't  his  own." 

"Why  must  she?"  I  asked.  "Ac- 
cording to  what  he  told  Hilary,  she 
did  n't." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary, 
with  decision. 

"Hilary  believed  it !  " 

"Oh,  Hilary!" 

"  But  then,  Hilary  knew  the  girl." 

"  Hilary  knew  —  !  You  mean  to  say 
Hilary  knew  —  ?  " 

"  No  one  better,"  said  I  composedly. 

Mrs.  Hilary  rose  to  her  feet. 

"Who  was  the  creature?"  she  asked 
sharply. 

"  Come,"  I  expostulated,  "  how  would 
you  like  it,  if  your  young  man  had  taken 
to  theft,  and — " 


6o  TJie  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  Oh,  nonsense.  Tell  me  her  name, 
please,  Mr.  Carter." 

"Johnny  told  Hilary  that  just  to  see 
her  and  talk  to  her  and  sit  by  her  was 
*  worth  all  the  money  '  —  but,  then,  to  be 
sure,  it  was  somebody  else's  money  — 
and  that  he  'd  do  it  again  to  get  what  he 
had  got  over  again.  Then,  I  'm  sorry  to 
say,  he  swore." 

"  And  Hilary  believed  that  stuff?  " 

"Hilary  agreed  with  him,"  said  I. 
"  Hilary,  you  see,   knows  the  lady." 

"  What  's  her  name,  Mr.  Carter?  " 

"  Did  n't  you  notice  his  attentions  to 
any  one?  " 

"  I  notice  !  You  don't  mean  that  I  've 
seen  her?  " 

"  Certainly  you  have." 

"Was  she  ever  here?  " 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Hilary.  Hilary  takes  care 
of  that." 

"  I  shall  be  angry  in  a  minute,  Mr. 
Carter.  Oh,  I  '11  have  this  out  ot 
Hilary  !  " 

"  I  should." 

"Who  was  she?" 

"  According  to  what  he  told  Hilary, 
she  was  the  most  fascinating  woman  in 
the  world.     Hilary  thought  so,  too." 


The  Little    Wretch  6i 

Mrs.  Hilary  began  to  walk  up  and 
down. 

"  Oh,  so  Hilary  helped  to  let  him  go, 
because  they  both  —  " 

"  Precisely,"  said  I. 

"  And  you  dare  to  come  and  tell  me  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  thought  you  ought  to  know," 
said  I.  "  Hilary  's  just  as  mad  about  her 
as  Johnny  —  in  fact,  he  said  he  'd  be 
hanged  if  he  would  n't  have  done  the 
same  himself." 

I  have  once  seen  Madame  Ristori  play 
Lady  Macbeth.  Her  performance  was 
recalled  to  me  by  the  tones  in  which  Mrs. 
Hilary  asked  : 

"  Who  is  this  woman,  if  you  please, 
Mr.  Carter?" 

"So  Hilary  got  him  off  —  gave  him 
fifty  pounds  too." 

"Glad  to  get  him  away,  perhaps,"  she 
burst  out,  in  angry  scorn. 

"  Who  knows?  "  said  I.     "  Perhaps." 

"Her  name?"  demanded  Lady  Mac- 
beth —  I  mean  Mrs.  Hilary  —  again. 

"  I  shan't  tell  you,  unless  you  promise 
to  say  nothing  to  Hilary." 

"  To  say  nothing  !     Well,  really  —  " 

"  Oh,  all  right !  "  and  I  took  up  my 
hat. 


62  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  But  I  can  watch  them,  can't  I  ?  '* 

"As  much  as  you  like." 

"  Won't  you  tell  me  ?  " 

**  If  you  promise." 

"  Well,  then,  I  promise." 

*'  Look  in  the'glass." 

"What  for?" 

"  To  see  your  face,  to  be  sure." 

She  started,  blushed  red,  and  moved  a 
step  towards  me. 

"  You  don't  mean  —  ?  "  she  cried. 

"  Thou  art  the  woman,"  said  T. 

"  Oh,  but  he  never  said  a  word  —  " 

"  Johnny  had  his  code,"  said  I.  "  And 
in  some  ways  it  was  better  than  some 
people's  —  in  some,  alas  I  worse." 

"  And  Hilary  ?  " 

"  Really  you  know  better  than  I  do 
whether  I  've  told  the  truth  about  Hil- 
ary." 

A  pause  ensued.  Then  Mrs.  Hilary 
made  three  short  remarks,  which  i  give 
in  their  order : 

( 1 )  "  The  little  wretch  !  " 

(2)  "Dear  old  Hilary!" 

(3)  "Poor  little  man!" 

I  took  my  hat.  I  knew  that  Hilary 
was  due  from  the  City  in  a  few  minutes. 
Mrs.  Hilary  sat  down  by  the  fire. 


The  Little    Wretch  63 

"How  dare  you  torment  me  so?" 
she  asked,  but  not  in  the  least  Uke  Lady 
Macbeth. 

"  I  must  have  my  little  amusements," 
said  I. 

"  What  an  audacious  little  creature  !  " 
said  Mrs.  Hilary.  "  Fancy  his  daring  ! 
—  Are  n't  you  astounded  ?  " 

*'  Oh,  yes,  I  am.  But  Hilary,  you 
see  —  " 

"  It 's  nearly  his  time,"  said  Mrs.  Hil- 
ary. 

I  buttoned  my  left  glove  and  held  out 
my  right  hand. 

^'  I  've  a  good  mind  not  to  shake  hands 
with  you,"  said  she.  ''  Was  n't  it  absurd 
of  Hilary?" 

"  Horribly." 

"  He  ought  to  have  been  all  the  more 
angry." 

''  Of  course  he  ought." 

"The  presumption  of  it !  "  And  Mrs. 
Hilary  smiled.     I  also  smiled. 

"That  poor  old  mother  of  his,"  re- 
flected Mrs.  Hilary.  "  Where  did  you 
say  she  lived?" 

"  Hilary  knows  the  address,"  said  I. 

"Silly  httle  wretch!"  mused  Mrs. 
Hilary,  still  smiling. 


64  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  Good-by,"  said  I. 

"  Good-by,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary. 

T  turned  towards  the  door  and  had 
laid  my  hand  on  the  knob,  when  Mrs. 
Hilary  called  softly, 

''  Mr.  Carter." 

*'  Yes,"  said  I,  turning. 

"  Do  you  know  where  the  little  wretch 
has  gone  ?  " 

*'  Oh,  yes,"  said  I. 

"I  —  I  suppose  you  don't  ever  write 
to  him?" 

"  Dear  me,  no,"  said  I. 

"But  you  —  could?"  suggested  Mrs. 
Hilary. 

''  Of  course,"  said  I. 

She  jumped  up  and  ran  towards  me. 
Her  purse  was  in  one  hand,  and  a  bit  of 
paper  fluttered  in  the  other. 

"Send  him  that  —  don't  tell  him,"  she 
whispered,  and  her  voice  had  a  little  catch 
in  it.      "  Poor  little  wretch  !  "  said  she. 

As  for  me,  I  smiled  cynically  —  quite 
cynically,  you  know :  for  it  was  very 
absurd. 

"  Please  go,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary. 
And  I  went. 

Supposing  it  had  been  another  woman  1 
Well,  I  wonder. 


VIII 

AN    EXPENSIVE    PRIVILEGE 

A  RATHER  uncomfortable  thing  hap- 
pened the  other  day  which  threatened 
a  schism  in  my  acquaintance  and  put 
me  in  a  decidedly  awkward  position.  It 
was  no  other  than  this  :  Mrs.  Hilary  Mus- 
grave  had  definitely  informed  me  that 
she  did  not  approve  of  Lady  Mickleham. 
The  attitude  is,  no  doubt,  a  conceivable 
one,  but  I  was  surprised  that  a  woman 
of  Mrs.  Hilary's  large  sympathies  should 
adopt  it.  Besides,  Mrs.  Hilary  is  quite 
good-looking  herself. 

The  history  of  the  affair  is  much  as 
follows  :  I  called  on  Mrs.  Hilary  to  see 
whether  I  could  do  anything,  and  she 
told  me  all  about  it.  It  appears  that 
Mrs.  Hilary  had  a  bad  cold  and  a  cousin 
up  from  the  country  about  the  same  time 
(she  was  justly  aggrieved  at  the  double 
event),  and,  being  unable  to  go  to  the 
Duchess  of  Dexminster's  "  squash,"  she 
asked  Dolly  Mickleham  to  chaperon  little 
5 


66  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

Miss  Phyllis.  Little  Miss  Phyllis,  of 
course,  knew  no  one  there  —  the  Duchess 
least  of  all  —  (but  then  very  few  of  us  — 
yes,  I  was  there  —  knew  the  Duchess, 
and  the  Duchess  did  n't  know  any  of  us ; 
I  saw  her  shake  hands  with  a  waiter  my- 
self, just  to  be  on  the  safe  side),  and  an 
hour  after  the  party  began  she  was  dis- 
covered wandering  about  in  a  most  deso- 
late condition.  Dolly  had  told  her  that 
she  would  be  in  a  certain  place ;  and 
when  Miss  Phyllis  came  Dolly  was  not 
there.  The  poor  little  lady  wandered 
about  for  another  hour,  looking  so  lost 
that  one  was  inclined  to  send  for  a  police- 
man ;  and  then  she  sat  down  on  a  seat 
by  the  wall,  and,  in  desperation,  asked 
her  next-door  neighbor  if  he  knew  Lady 
Mickleham  by  sight,  and  had  he  seen 
her  lately?  The  next-door  neighbor,  by 
way  of  reply,  called  out  to  a  quiet  elderly 
gentleman  who  was  sidling  unobtrusively 
about,  "  Duke,  are  there  any  particular 
snug  corners  in  your  house  ?  "  The  Duke 
stopped,  searched  his  memory,  and  said 
that  at  the  end  of  the  Red  Corridor  there 
was  a  passage ;  and  that  a  few  yards 
down  the  passage,  if  you  turned  very  sud- 
denly to  the  right,  you  would  come  on  a 


A  71  Expensive  Privilege       6 J 

little  nook  under  the  stairs.  The  little 
nook  just  held  a  settee,  and  the  settee 
(the  Duke  thought)  might  just  hold  two 
people.  The  next-door  neighbor  thanked 
the  Duke,  and  observed  to  Miss  Phyllis  — 

"  It  will  give  me  great  pleasure  to 
take  you  to  Lady  Mickleham."  So 
they  went,  it  being  then,  according  to 
Miss  Phyllis's  sworn  statement,  precisely 
two  hours  and  five  minutes  since  Dolly 
had  disappeared ;  and,  pursuing  the 
route  indicated  by  the  Duke,  they  found 
Lady  Mickleham.  And  Lady  Mickle- 
ham exclaimed,  "  Good  gracious,  my 
dear,  I  'd  quite  forgotten  you  !  Have 
you  had  an  ice?  Do  take  her  to  have 
an  ice.  Sir  John."  (Sir  John  Berry  was 
the  next-door  neighbor.)  And  with  that 
Lady  Mickleham  is  said  to  have  resumed 
her  conversation. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  anything  more 
atrocious?  "  concluded  Mrs.  Hilary. 
'*  I  really  cannot  think  what  Lord 
Mickleham    is    doing." 

"You  surely  mean,  what  Lady 
Mickleham  — ?" 

"  No,  I  don't,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary,  with 
extraordinary  decision.  "Anything  might 
have  happened  to  that  poor  child." 


68  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  Oh,  there  were  not  many  of  the 
aristocracy  present,"  said  I  soothingly. 

"  But  it 's  not  that  so  much,  as  the 
thing  itself.  She  's  the  most  disgraceful 
flirt  in  London." 

"  How  do  you  know  she  was  flirting?  " 
I  inquired  with  a  smile. 

''How  do  I  know?"  echoed  Mrs. 
Hilary. 

"  It  is  a  very  hasty  conclusion,"  I  per- 
sisted. "  Sometimes  I  stay  talking  with 
you  for  an  hour  or  more.  Are  you, 
therefore,  flirting  with  me?" 

"With  you!''  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hilary, 
with  a  little  laugh. 

''Absurd  as  the  supposition  is,".  I 
remarked,  "  it  yet  serves  to  point  the 
argument.  Lady  Mickleham  might  have 
been  talking  with  a  friend,  just  in  the 
quiet,  rational  way  in  which  we  are  talk- 
ing now." 

"  I  don't  think  that 's  likely,"  said 
Mrs.  Hilary;  and  —  well,  I  do  not  like 
to  say  that  she  sniffed  —  it  would  con- 
vey too  strong  an  idea,  but  she  did  make 
an  odd  litde  sound  something  like  a 
much  etherealized  sniff. 

I  smiled  again,  and  more  broadly.  I 
was    enjoying    beforehand  the   little  vie- 


Alt  Expensive  Privilege       69 

tory  which  I  was  to  enjoy  over  Mrs. 
Hilary. 

"  Yet  it  happens  to  be  true,"  said  I. 

Mrs.  Hilary  was  magnificently  con- 
temptuous. 

"  Lord  Mickleham  told  you  so,  I 
suppose?"  she  asked.  "And  I  sup- 
pose Lady  Mickleham  told  him  —  poor 
man  !  " 

*'  Why  do  you  call  him  '  poor  man'  ?  " 

"  Oh,  never  mind.     Did  he  tell  you?  " 

"Certainly  not.-  The  fact  is,  Mrs. 
Hilary  —  and  really,  you  must  excuse 
me  for  having  kept  you  in  the  dark  a 
little  —  it  amused  me  so  much  to  hear 
your  suspicions." 

Mrs.  Hilary  rose  to  her  feet. 

"Well,  what  are  you  going  to  say?" 
she  asked. 

I  laughed,  as  I  answered : 

"  Why,  I  was  the  man  with  Lady 
Mickleham  when  your  friend  and  Berry 
inter  —  when  they  arrived,  you  know." 

Well,  I  should  have  thought  —  I  should 
still  think  —  that  she  would  have  been 
pleased  —  relieved,  you  know,  to  find 
her  uncharitable  opinion  erroneous,  and 
pleased  to  have  it  altered  on  the  best 
authority.     I  'm  sure  that  is  how  I  should 


JO  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

have  felt.  It  was  not,  however,  how  Mrs. 
Hilary  felt. 

'*  I  am  deeply  pained,"  she  observed 
after  a  long  pause ;  and  then  she  held 
out  her  hand. 

"  I  was  sure  you  'd  forgive  my  little 
deception,"  said  I,  grasping  it.  I 
thought  still  that  she  meant  to  bury  all 
unkindness. 

"  I  should  never  have  thought  it  of 
you,"  she  went  on. 

"  I  did  n't  know  your  friend  was  there 
at  all,"  I  pleaded;  for  by  now  I  was 
alarmed. 

<^0h,  please  don't  shuffle  like  that," 
said  Mrs.  Hilary. 

She  continued  to  stand,  and  I  rose  to 
my  feet.  Mrs.  Hilary  held  out  her  hand 
again. 

''  Do  you  mean  that  I  'm  to  go?"  said 
I. 

"  I  hope  we  shall  see  you  again  some 
day?"  said  Mrs.  Hilary;  the  tone  sug- 
gested that  she  was  looking  forward  to 
some  future  existence,  when  my  earthly 
sins  should  have  been  sufficiently  purged. 
It  reminded  me  for  the  moment  of  King 
Arthur  and  Queen  Guinevere. 

"But  I  protest,"  I  began,  "that  my 


An  Expensive  Privilege       71 

only  object  in  telling  you  was  to  show 
you  how  absurd  —  " 

"  Is  it  any  good  talking  about  it  now?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Hilary.  A  discussion  might 
possibly  be  fruitful  in  the  dim  futurity 
before  mentioned  —  but  not  now  —  that 
was  what  she  seemed  to  say. 

"  Lady  Mickleham  and  I,  on  the  oc- 
casion in  question  —  "I  began,  with 
dignity. 

"  Pray  spare  me,"  quoth  Mrs.  Hilary, 
with  much  greater  dignity. 

I  took  my  hat.. 

"Shall  you  be  at  home  as  usual  on 
Thursday?"  I  asked. 

"  I  have  a  great  many  people  coming 
already,"  she  remarked. 

"  I  can  take  a  hint,"  said  I. 

"  I  wish  you  'd  take  warning,"  said 
Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  I  will  take  my  leave,"  said  I ;  and  I 
did,  leaving  Mrs.  Hilary  in  a  tragic  atti- 
tude in  the  middle  of  the  room.  Never 
again  shall  I  go  out  of  my  way  to  lull  Mrs. 
Hilary's  suspicions. 

A  day  or  two  after  this  very  trying 
interview.  Lady  .  Mickleham's  victoria 
happened  to  stop  opposite  where  I  was 
seated  in  the  park.  I  went  to  pay  my 
respects. 


72  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

'*  Do  you  mean  to  leave  me  nothing  in 
the  world,"  I  asked,  just  by  way  of  intro- 
ducing the  subject  of  Mrs.  Hilary.  "  One 
of  my  best  friends  has  turned  me  out  of 
her  house  on  your  account." 

*'  Oh,  do  tell  me,"  said  Dolly,  dimpling 
all  over  her  face. 

So  I  told  her ;  I  made  the  story  as  long 
as  I  could  for  reasons  connected  with  the 
dimples. 

"What  fun!"  exclaimed  Dolly.  "I 
told  you  at  the  time  that  a  young  un- 
married person  like  you  ought  to  be  more 
careful." 

*'  I  am  just  debating,"  I  observed, 
"whether  to  sacrifice  you." 

"  To  sacrifice  me,  Mr.  Carter  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  I  explained ;  "  if  I 
dropped  you  Mrs.  Hilary  would  let  me 
come  again." 

"  How  charming  that  would  be  !  "  cried 
Dolly.  "  You  would  enjoy  her  nice  serious 
conversation  —  all  about  Hilary  ! '' 

"  She  is  apt,"  I  conceded,  "  to  touch 
on  Hilary.     But  she  is  very  picturesque." 

"  Oh,  yes,  she  's  handsome,"  said 
Dolly. 

There  was  a  pause.  Then  Dolly  said, 
"Well?" 


An  Expensive  Privilege        73 

"  Well?  "  said  I  in  return. 

"Is  itgood-by?"  asked  Dolly,  draw- 
ing down  the  corners  of  her  mouth. 

"  It  comes  to  this,"  1  remarked.  "  Sup- 
posing I  forgive  you  —  " 

"  As  if  it  was  my  fault !  " 

"And  risk  Mrs.  Hilary's  wrath  —  did 
you  speak?  " 

"  No  ;  I  laughed,  Mr.  Carter." 

«  What  shall  I  get  out  of  it?  " 

The  sun  was  shining  brightly  :  it  shone 
on  Dolly :  she  had  raised  her  parasol,  but 
she  blinked  a  little  beneath  it.  She  was 
smiling  slightly  still,  and  one  dimple  stuck 
to  its  post  —  like  a  sentinel,  ready  to  rouse 
the  rest  from  their  brief  repose.  Dolly 
lay  back  in  the  victoria,  nestling  luxu- 
riously against  the  soft  cushions.  She 
turned  her  eyes  for  a  moment  on  me. 

"  Why  are  you  looking  at  me  ? "  she 
asked. 

"  Because,"  said  I,  "  there  is  nothing 
better  to  look  at." 

"  Do  you  like  doing  it?"  asked  Dolly. 

"  It  is  a  privilege,"  said  I,  politely. 

"Well,  then!"  said  Dolly. 

"  But,"  I  ventured  to  observe,  "  it 's 
rather  an  expensive  one." 

"  Then  you  must  n't  have  it  very  often." 


74  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"And  it  is  shared  by  so  many  people." 
"  Then,"    said    Dolly,    smiling    indul- 
gently,   "  you    must    have    it  —  a    little 
oftener.     Home,  Roberts,  please." 

I  am  not  yet  allowed  at   Mrs.  Hilary 
Musgrave's. 


IX 

A  VERY  DULL  AFFAIR 

*'To  hear  you  talk,"  remarked  Mrs. 
Hilary  Musgrave  —  and,  if  any  one  is 
surprised  to  find  me  at  her  house,  I  can 
only  say  that  Hilary,  when  he  asked  me 
to  take  pot- luck,  was  quite  ignorant  of 
any  ground  of  difference  between  his 
wife  and  myself,  and  that  Mrs.'  Hilary 
could  not  very  well  eject  me  on  my  ar- 
rival in  evening  dress  at  ten  minutes  to 
eight  —  "to  hear  you  talk  one  would 
think  that  there  was  no  such  thing  as 
real  love." 

She  paused.     I  smiled. 

"  Now,"  she  continued,  turning  a  fine, 
but  scornful  eye  upon  me,  "  I  have 
never  cared  for  any  man  in  the  world 
except  my  husband." 

I  smiled  again.  Poor  Hilary  looked 
very  uncomfortable.  With  an  apolo- 
getic air  he  began  to  stammer  some- 
thmg  about  Parish  Councils.  I  was  not 
to  be  diverted  by  any  such  manoeuvre. 


'jG  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

It  was  impossible  that  he  could  really 
wish  to  talk  on  that  subject. 

''  Would  a  person  who  had  never 
eaten  anything  but  beef  make  a  boast 
of  it?"  I  asked. 

Hilary  grinned  covertly.  Mrs.  Hilary 
pulled  the  lamp  nearer,  and  took  up  her 
embroidery. 

"  Do  you  always  work  the  same  pat- 
tern?" said  I. 

Hilary  kicked  me  gently.  Mrs.  Hilary 
made  no  direct  reply,  but  presently  she 
began  to  talk. 

"  I  was  just  about  Phyllis's  age  —  (by 
the  way,  little  Miss  Phyllis  was  there)  — 
when  I  first  saw  Hilary.  You  remember, 
Hilary?     At  Bournemouth?  " 

"  Oh  —  er  —  was  it  Bournemouth?  " 
said  Hilary,  with  much  carelessness. 

"  I  was  on  the  pier,"  pursued  Mrs. 
Hilary.  "  I  had  a  red  frock  on,  I  re- 
member, and  one  of  those  big  hats  they 
wore  that  year.     Hilary  wore  —  " 

"  Blue  serge,"  I  interpolated,  encour- 
agingly. 

"  Yes,  blue  serge,"  said  she  fondly. 
"  He  had  been  yachting,  and  he  was 
beautifully  burnt.  I  was  horribly  burnt 
—  was  n't  I,  Hilary  ?  " 


A    Very  Dull  Affair  yy 

Hilary  began  to  pat  the  dog. 

"  Then  we  got  to  know  one  another." 

"  Stop  a  minute,"  said  I.  "  How  did 
that  happen?" 

Mrs.  Hilary  blushed. 

"Well,  we  were  both  always  on  the 
pier,"  she  explained.  "  And  —  and  some- 
how Hilary  got  to  know  father,  and  — 
and  father  introduced  him  to  me." 

"  I  'm  glad  it  was  no  worse,"  said  I. 
I  was  considering  Miss  Phyllis,  who  sat 
listening,  open-eyed. 

"  And  then,  you  know,  father  was  n't 
always  there  ;  and  once  or  twice  we  met 
on  the  cliff.  Do  you  remember  that 
morning,   Hilary?  " 

"What  morning?"  asked  Hilary,  pat- 
ting the  dog  with  immense  assiduity. 

"  Why,  the  morning  I  had  my  white 
serge  on.  I  'd  been  bathing,  and  my 
hair  was  down  to  dry,  and  you  said  I 
looked  like  a  mermaid." 

"Do  mermaids  wear  white  serge?"  I 
asked ;  but  nobody  took  the  least  notice 
of  me  —  quite  properly. 

"And  you  told  me  such  a  lot  about 
yourself;  and  then  we  found  we  were  late 
for  lunch." 

"Yes,"  said  Hilary,  suddenly  forgetting 


yS  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

the  dog,  ''  and  your  mother  gave  me  an 
awful  glance." 

"  Yes,  and  then  you  told  me  that  you 
were  very  poor,  but  that  you  could  n't 
help  it ;  and  you  said  you  supposed  I 
could  n't  possibly  —  " 

"Well,  I  didn't  think  —  !" 

"  And  I  said  you  were  a  silly  old  thing  ; 
and  then  —  "  Mrs.  Hilary  stopped 
abruptly. 

"  How  lovely  !  "  remarked  little  Miss 
Phyllis  in  a  wistful  voice. 

"And  do  you  remember,"  pursued 
Mrs.  Hilary,  laying  down  her  embroidery 
and  clasping  her  hands  on  her  knees, 
"the  morning  you  went  to  see  father?" 

"What  a  row  there  was  !  "  said  Hilary. 

"  And  what  an  awful  week  it  was  after 
that  !  I  was  never  so  miserable  in  all 
my  life.  I  cried  till  my  eyes  were  quite 
red,  and  then  I  bathed  them  for  an  hour, 
and  then  I  went  to  the  pier,  and  you 
were  there  —  and  I  might  n't  speak  to 
you  !  " 

"  I  remember,"  said  Hilary,  nodding 
gently. 

"And  then,  Hilary,  father  sent  for  me 
and  told  me  it  was  no  use ;  and  I  said 
I  'd    never   marry   any    one    else.      And 


A    Very  Dull  Affair  79 

father    said,    ^  There,     there,    don't    cry. 
We  '11  see  what  mother  says.'  " 

"  Your  mother  was  a  brick,"  said 
Hilary,  poking  the  fire. 

"  And  that  night  —  they  never  told  me 
anything  about  it,  and  I  did  n't  even 
change  my  frock,  but  came  down,  look- 
ing horrible,  just  as  I  was,  in  an  old  black 
rag  —  Now,  Hilary,  don't  say  it  was 
pretty  !  " 

Hilary,  unconvinced,  shook  his  head. 

"  And  when  I  walked  into  the  draw- 
ing-room there  was  nobody  there  but 
just  you ;  and  we  neither  of  us  said  any- 
thing for  ever  so  long.  And  then  father 
and  mother  came  in  and  —  do  you  re- 
member after  dinner,  Hilary?  " 

"I  remember,"  said  Hilary. 

There  was  a  long  pause.  Mrs.  Hilary 
was  looking  into  the  fire ;  little  Miss 
Phyllis's  eyes  were  fixed,  in  rapt  gaze,  on 
the  ceiling;  Hilary  was  looking  at  his 
wife  —  I,  thinking  it  safest,  was  regarding 
my  own  boots. 

At  last  Miss  Phyllis  broke  the  silence. 
"  How  perfectly  lovely  !  "  she  said. 
"Yes,"    said   Mrs.    Hilary.     "And    we 
were  married  three  months  afterwards." 

"Tenth  of  June,"   said  Hilary,  reflec- 
tively. 


8o  The  Dolly  Dialogues    ' 

"  And  we  had  the  most  charming  little 
rooms  in  the  world  !  Do  you  remember 
those  first  rooms,  dear?     So  tiny  !  " 

"  Not  bad  little  rooms,"  said  Hilary. 

"  How  awfully  lovely !  "  cried  little 
Miss  Phyllis. 

I  felt  that  it  was  time  to  interfere. 

"And  is  that  all?  "  I  asked. 

"All?  How  do  you  mean?"  said 
Mrs.  Hilary,  with  a  slight  start. 

"  Well,  I  mean,  did  nothing  else  hap- 
pen? Were  n't  there  any  complications? 
Were  n't  there  any  more  troubles,  or  any 
more  opposition,  or  any  misunderstand- 
ings, or  anything?  " 

"  No,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"You  never  quarrelled,  or  broke  it 
off?  " 

"  No." 

"Nobody  cam 3  between  you?  '* 

"  No.  It  all  went  just  perfectly.  Why, 
of  course  it  did." 

"  Hilary's  people  made  themselves 
nasty,  perhaps?"  I  suggested,  with  a 
ray  of  hope. 

"  They  fell  in  love  with  her  on  the 
spot,"  said  Hilary. 

Then  I  rose  and  stood  with  my  back  to 
the  fire. 


A    Very  Dull  Affair  8i 

"I  do  not  know,"  I  observed,  "what 
Miss  Phyllis  thinks  about  it  —  " 

"  I  think  it  was  just  perfect,  Mr. 
Carter." 

''  But  for  my  part,  I  can  only  say  that 
I  never  heard  of  such  a  dull  affair  in  ail 
my  life." 

'*  Dull/  "  gasped  Miss  Phyllis. 

^^  Dull!'^  murmured  Mrs.  Hilary. 

''Dull!''  chuckled  Hilary. 

"  It  was,"  said  I  severely,  "  without  a 
spark  of  interest  from  beginning  to  end. 
Such  things  happen  by  thousands.  It 's 
commonplaceness  itself.  I  had  some 
hopes  when  your  father  assumed  a  firm 
attitude,  but  —  " 

"  Mother  was  such  a  dear,"  inter- 
rupted Mrs.  Hilary. 

"Just  so.  She  gave  away  the  whole 
situation.  Then  I  did  trust  that  Hilary 
would  lose  his  place,  or  develop  an  old 
flame,  or  do  something  just  a  little 
interesting." 

"  It  was  a  perfect  time,"  said  Mrs. 
Hilary. 

"  I  wonder  why  in  the  world  you  told 
me  about  it,"  I  pursued. 

"  I  don't  know  why  I  did,"  said  Mrs. 
Hilary  dreamily. 


82  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"The  only  possible  excuse  for  an 
engagement  like  that,"  I  observed,  "  is 
to  be  found  in  intense  post-nuptial 
unhappiness." 

Hilary  rose,  and  advanced  towards  his 
wife. 

"  Your  embroidery 's  falling  on  the 
floor,"  said  he. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  I. 

'*  Yes,  it  is,"  he  persisted ;  and  he 
picked  it  up  and  gave  it  to  her.  Miss 
Phylhs  smiled  delightedly.  Hilary  had 
squeezed  his  wife's  hand. 

"  Then  we  don't  excuse  it,"  said  he. 

I  took  out  my  watch.  I  was  not  find- 
ing much  entertainment. 

"Surely  it's  quite  early,  old  man?" 
said  Hilary. 

"  It 's  nearly  eleven.  We  've  spent 
half-an-hour  on  the  thing,"  said  I  peev- 
ishly, holding  out  my  hand  to  my  hostess. 

"  Oh,  are  you  going?  Good-night,  Mr. 
Carter." 

I  turned  to  Miss  Phyllis. 

"  I  hope  you  won't  think  all  love- 
affairs  are  like  that,"  I  said ;  but  I  saw 
her  lips  begin  to  shape  into  "  lovely," 
and  I  hastily  left  the  room. 

Hilary  came   to  help  me  on  with  my 


A    Very  Dull  Affair  83 

coat.  He  looked  extremely  apologetic, 
and  very  much  ashamed  of  himself. 

"Awfully  sorry,  old  chap,"  said  he, 
**  that  we  bored  you  with  our  reminis- 
cences. I  know,  of  course,  that  they 
can't  be  very  interesting  to  other  people. 
Women  are  so  confoundedly  romantic." 

"Don't  try  that  on  with  me,"  said  I, 
much  disgusted.  "  You  were  just  as  bad 
yourself." 

He  laughed,  as  he  leant  against  the 
door. 

"  She  did  look  ripping  in  that  white 
frock,"  he  said,  "with  her  hair  —  " 

"  Stop,"  said  I,  firmly.  "  She  looked 
just  like  a  lot  of  other  girls." 

"  I  'm  hanged  if  she  did  !  "  said  Hilary. 

Then  he  glanced  at  me  with  a  puzzled 
sort  of  expression. 

"  I  say,  old  man,  were  n't  you  ever  that 
way  yourself?  "  he  asked. 

I  hailed  a  hansom  cab. 

"Because,  if  you  were,  you  know, 
you  'd  understand  how  a  fellow  remem- 
bers every  —  " 

"  Good-night,"  said  I.  "  At  least  I 
suppose  you  're  not  coming  to  the 
club?" 

"Well,    I     think    not,"    said    Hilary. 


84  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  Ta-ta,  old  fellow.  Sorry  we  bored 
you.     Of  course,  if  a  man  has  never  —  " 

''  Never  !  "  I  groaned.  "  A  score  of 
times  !  " 

"  Well,  then,  does  n't  it  — ?  " 

^'  No,"  said  I.  ''  It  's  just  that  that 
makes  stories  like  yours  so  infernally  —  " 

^'What?"  asked  Hilary;  for  I  had 
paused  to  light  a  cigarette. 

"  Uninteresting,"  said  I,  getting  into 
my  cab. 


X 
STRANGE,    BUT    TRUE 

The  other  day  my  young  cousin 
George  lunched  with  me.  He  is  a 
cheery  youth,  and  a  member  of  the  Uni- 
versity of  Oxford.  He  refreshes  me  very 
much,  and  1  beheve  that  I  have  the 
pleasure  of  affording  him  some  matter  for 
thought.  On  this  occasion,  however,  he 
was  extremely  silent  and  depressed.  I 
said  little,  but  made  an  extremely  good 
luncheon.  Afterwards  we  proceeded  to 
take  a  stroll  in  the  Park. 

''Sam,  old  boy,"  said  George  sud- 
denly, "  I  'm  the  most  miserable  devil 
alive." 

"  I  don't  know  what  else  you  expect 
at  your  age,"  I  observed,  lighting  a  cigar. 
He  walked  on  in  silence  for  a  few  mo- 
ments. 

"  I  say,  Sam,  old  boy,  when  you  were 
young,  were  you  ever  —  ?"  He  paused, 
arranged  his  neckcloth  (it  was  more  like 


S6  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

a  bed-quilt  —  oh,  the  fashion,  of  course, 
1  know  that),  and  blushed  a  fine  crim- 
son, 

"Was  I  ever  what,  George?"  I  had 
the  curiosity  to  ask. 

"  Oh,  well,  hard  hit,  you  know  —  a  girl, 
you  know." 

"  In  love,  you  mean,  George  ?  No,  I 
never  was." 

"Never?" 

"No.     Are  you?  " 

"  Yes.  Hang  it !  "  Then  he  looked 
at  me  with  a  puzzled  air  and  continued, 

"  I  say,  though,  Sam,  it 's  awfully 
funny  you  should  n't  have  —  don't  you 
know  what  it's  like,  then?" 

"  How  should  I  ?  "  I  inquired  apolo- 
getically.    "What  is  it  like,  George?" 

George  took  my  arm. 

"It's  just  Hades,"  he  informed  me 
confidentially. 

"  Then,"  I  remarked,  "  I  have  no 
reason  to  regret  —  " 

"Still,  you  know,"  interrupted  George, 
"it's  not  half-bad." 

"  That  appears  to  me  to  be  a  paradox," 
I  observed. 

"'  It 's  precious  hard  to  explain  it  to 
you  if  you  've  never  felt  it,"  said  George, 


Strange,  but   True  87 

'in  rather  an  injured  tone.  "  But  what  I 
say  is  quite  true." 

"  I  should  n't  think  of  contradicting 
you,  my  dear  fellow,"  I  hastened  to  say. 

''  Let 's  sit  down,"  said  he,  "  and  watch 
the  people  driving.  We  may  see  some- 
body—  somebody  we  know,  you  know, 
Sam." 

*'  So  we  may,"  said  I,  and  we  sat 
down. 

"  A  fellow,"  pursued  George,  with 
knitted  brows,  "  is  all  turned  upside- 
down,  don't  you  know?" 

*'  How  very  peculiar  !  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  One  moment  he  's  the  happiest  dog 
in  the  world,  and  the  next  —  well,  the 
next,  it 's  the  deuce." 

"  But,"  I  objected,  "  not  surely  with- 
out good  reason  for  such  a  change?" 

"  Reason  ?  Bosh  !  The  least  thing 
does   it." 

I  flicked  the  ash  from  my  cigar. 

"It  may,"  I  remarked,  "affect  you  in 
this  extraordinary  way,  but  surely  it  is 
not  so  with  most  people  ?" 

"  Perhaps  not,"  George  conceded. 
"Most  people  are  cold-blooded  asses." 

"Very  likely  the  explanation  lies  in 
that  fact,"  said  I. 


88  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  I  did  n't  mean  you,  old  chap,"  said 
George,  with  a  penitence  which  showed 
that  he  had  meant  me. 

"  Oh,  all  right,  all  right,"  said  I. 

*'  But  when  a  man  's  really  far  gone 
there  's  nothing  else  in  the  world  but  it." 

"  That  seems  to  me  not  to  be  a  healthy 
condition,"  said  I. 

^'  Healthy  ?  Oh,  you  old  idiot,  Sam  ! 
Who's  talking  of  health?  Now,  only 
last  night  I  met  her  at  a  dance.  I  had 
five  dances  with  her  —  talked  to  her  half 
the  evening,  in  fact.  Well,  you  'd  think 
that  would  last  some  time,  would  n't 
you?" 

"I  should  certainly  have  supposed  so," 
I  assented. 

"  So  it  would  with  most  chaps,  I  dare 
say,  but  with  me  —  confound  it,  I  feel  as 
if  I  had  n't  seen  her  for  six  months  ! " 

"  But,  my  dear  George,  that  is  surely 
rather  absurd  ?  As  you  tell  me,  you  spent 
a  long  while  with  the  young  person — " 

"  The  —  young  — ^  person  !  " 

"You've  not  told  me  her  name,  you 
see." 

"'  No,  and  I  sha'n't.  I  wonder  if  she  '11 
be  at  the  Musgraves'  to-night  !  " 

"You're  sure,"  said  I  soothingly  "to 


Strange,  bid   Tnic  89 

meet  her  somewhere  in  the  course  of  the 
next  few  weeks." 

George  looked  at  me.  Then  he  ob- 
served with  a  bitter  laugh  : 

"  It  *s  pretty  evident  you  've  never  had 
it.  You  're  as  bad  as  those  chaps  who 
write  books." 

"Well,  but  surely  they  often  de- 
scribe with  sufficient  warmth  and  —  er  — 
color —  " 

"  Oh,  I  dare  say ;  but  it 's  all  wrong. 
At  least,  it 's  not  what  /  feel.  Then  look 
at  the  girls  in  books  !     All  beasts  !  " 

George  spoke  with  much  vehemence  ; 
so  that  I  was  led  to  say, 

"  The  lady  you  are  preoccupied  with 
is,  I  suppose,  handsome  ?  " 

George  turned  swifdy  round  on  me. 

"  Look  here,  can  you  hold  your 
tongue,    Sam?" 

1  nodded. 

"  Then  I  'm  hanged  if  I  won't  point 
her  out  to  you  !  " 

''  That 's  uncommon  good  of  you, 
George,"  said   I. 

"  Then  you  '11  see,"  continued  George. 
**  But  it 's  not  only  her  looks,  you  know, 
she  's  the  most —  " 

He   stopped.      Looking  round    to  see 


90  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

why,  I  observed  that  his  face  was  red ; 
he  clutched  his  walking-stick  tightly  in 
his  left  hand ;  his  right  hand  was  trem- 
bling, as  if  it  wanted  to  jump  up  to 
his  hat.  "  Here  she  comes !  Look, 
look  !  "    he  whispered. 

Directing  my  eyes  towards  the  lines 
of  carriages  which  rolled  past  us,  I  ob- 
served a  girl  in  a  victoria;  by  her  side 
sat  a  portly  lady  of  middle  age.  The 
girl  was  decidedly  like  the  lady ;  a  de- 
scription of  the  lady  would  not,  I  imagine, 
be  interesting.  The  girl  blushed  slightly 
and  bowed.  George  and  I  lifted  our 
hats.  The  victoria  and  its  occupants 
were  gone.  George  leant  back  with  a 
sigh.     After  a  moment,  he  said, 

'^  Well,  that  was  her." 

There  was  expectancy  in  his  tone. 

*'  She  has  an  extremely  prepossessing 
appearance,"  I  observed. 

*' There  isn't,"  said  George,  "a  girl 
in  London  to  touch  her.  Sam,  old 
boy,  I  believe  —  I  believe  she  likes  me 
a  bit." 

"  I  'm  sure  she  must,  George,"  said  I ; 
and,  indeed,  I  thought  so. 

"  The  Governor  's  infernally  unreason- 
able," said  George,  fretfully. 


Strange^  but  True  91 

"  Oh,  you  've  mentioned  it  to  him?  " 

*'  I  sounded  him.  Oh,  you  may  be 
sure  he  did  n't  see  what  I  was  up  to.  I 
put  it  quite  generally.  He  talked  rot 
about  getting  on  in  the  world.  Who 
wants  to  get   on?" 

''  Who,  indeed  ?  "  said  I.  ''  It  is  only 
changing  what  you  are  for  something  no 
better." 

"  And  about  waiting  till  I  know  my 
own  mind.  Isn't  it  enough  to  look  at 
her?" 

"  Ample,  in  my  opinion,"  said  I. 

George  rose  to  his  feet. 

*'  They  've  gone  to  a  party ;  they  won't 
come  round  again,"  said  he.  "  We  may 
as  well  go,  may  n't  we?  " 

1  was  very  comfortable :  so  I  said 
timidly, 

*'  We  might  see  somebody  else  we 
know." 

"  Oh,  somebody  else  be  hanged  !  Who 
wants  to  see  'em?  " 

"  I  'm  sure  I  don't,"  said  I  hastily,  as 
I  rose  from  my  armchair,  which  was  at 
once  snapped  up. 

We  were  about  to  return  to  the  club, 
when  I  observed  Lady  Mickleham's 
barouche    standing   under   the    trees.     I 


92  TJie  Dolly  Dialogues 

invited  George  to  come  and  be  intro- 
duced. 

He  displayed  great  indifference. 

"  She  gives  a  good  many  parties/'  said 
I ;   "  and  perhaps  —  " 

''  By  Jove  !  yes.  I  may  as  well,"  said 
George,  "  Glad  you  had  the  sense  to 
think  of  that,  old  man." 

So  I  took  him  up  to  Dolly  and  pre- 
sented him.  Dolly  was  very  gracious : 
George  is  an  eminently  presentable  boy. 
We  fell  into  conversation. 

''My  cousin,  Lady  Mickleham,"  said 
I,  "  has  been  telling  me —  " 

*'  Oh,  shut  up,  Sam  ! "  said  George, 
not,  however,  appearing  very  angry. 

"About  a  subject  on  which  you  can 
assist  him  more  than  I  can,  inasmuch  as 
you  are  married.     He  is  in  love." 

Dolly  glanced  at  George. 

*'  Oh,  what  fun  !  "  said  she. 

"  Fun  !  "  cried  George. 

"  I  mean,  how  awfully  interesting," 
said  Dolly,  suddenly  transforming  her 
expression. 

"  And  he  wanted  to  be  introduced  to  you 
because  you  might  ask  her  and  him  to  — " 

George  became  red,  and  began  to 
stammer  an  apology. 


Strange,  but   True  93 

"Oh,  I  don't  believe  him,"  said  Dolly 
kindly ;  "  he  always  makes  people  un- 
comfortable if  he  can.  What  were  you 
telling  him,  Mr.  George?" 

"  It 's  no  use  telling  him  anything. 
He  can  't  understand,"  said  George. 

"Is  she  very  —  ?"  asked  Dolly,  fixing 
doubtfully  grave  eyes  on  my  young 
cousin. 

"  Sam  's  seen  her,"  said  he,  in  an 
access  of  shyness. 

Dolly  turned  to  me  for  an  opinion,  and 
I  gave  one : 

"She  is  just,"  said  I,  "as  charming 
as  he  thinks  her." 

Dolly  leant  ov^er  to  my  cousin,  and 
whispered,  "Tell  me  her  name."  And 
he  whispered  something  back  to  Dolly. 

"  It 's  awfully  kind  of  you,  Lady 
Mickleham,"    he    said. 

"  I  am  a  kind  old  thing,"  said  Dolly, 
all  over  dimples.  "  I  can  easily  get  to 
know  them." 

"  Oh,  you  really  are  awfully  kind. 
Lady  Mickleham." 

Dolly  smiled  upon  him,  waved  her 
hand  to  me,  and  drove  off,  crying  — 

"  Do  try  to  make  Mr.  Carter  under- 
stand !  " 


94  ^/^^  Dolly  Dialogues 

We  were  left  alone.  George  wore  a 
meditative  smile.  Presently  he  roused 
himself  to  say, 

"  She 's  really  a  very  kind  woman. 
She 's  so  sympathetic.  She 's  not  like 
you.  I  expect  she  felt  it  once  herself, 
you  know." 

"  One  can  never  tell,"  said  I  care- 
lessly.    "  Perhaps  she  did  —  once." 

George  fell  to  brooding  again.  I 
thought  I    would  try  an   experiment. 

*'  Not  altogether  bad-looking,  either, 
is  she?"     I  asked,  lighting  a  cigarette. 

George  started. 

"What?  Oh,  well,  I  don't  know.  I 
suppose  some  people  might  think  so." 

He  paused,  and  added,  with  a  bash- 
ful, knowing  smile  — 

"  You  can  hardly  expect  me  to  go  into 
raptures  about  her,  can  you,  old  man?  " 

I  turned  my  head  away,  but  he  caught 
me. 

"  Oh,  you  need  n't  smile  in  that 
infernally  patronizing  way,"  he  cried 
angrily. 

"  Upon  my  word,  George,"  said  I,  "  I 
don't  know  that  I  need." 


XI 

THE  VERY  LATEST  THING 

*  It  's  the  very  latest  thing,"  said  Lady 
Mickleham,  standing  by  the  table  in  the 
smoking-room,  and  holding  an  album  in 
her  hand. 

"  I  wish  it  had  been  a  little  later  still," 
said  I,  for  I  felt  embarrassed. 

"You  promise,  on  your  honor,  to  be 
absolutely  sincere,  you  know,  and  then 
you  write  what  you  think  of  me.  See 
what  a  lot  of  opinions  I  've  got  already," 
and  she  held  up  the  thick  album. 

"  It  would  be  extremely  interesting  to 
read  them,"  I  observed. 

"  Oh  !  but  they  're  quite  confidential," 
said  Dolly.     "  That 's  part  of  the  fun." 

"  I  don't  appreciate  that  part,"  said  I. 

"  Perhaps  you  will  when  you  've  written 
yours,"  suggested  Lady  Mickleham. 

"Meanwhile,  mayn't  I  see  the  Dow- 
ager's? " 

"  Well,  I  '11  show  you  a  litde  bit  of 
the  Dowager's.  Look  here  :  *  Our  dear 
Dorothea  is  still  perhaps  just  a  thought 


g6  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

wanting  in  seriousness,  but  the  sense  of 
her  position  is  having  a  sobering  effect.'  " 

"  I  hope  not,"  I  exclaimed  apprehen- 
sively.    "  Whose  is  this?" 

*'  Archie's." 

"May  I  see  a  bit  —  ?  " 

"Not  a  bit,"  said  Dolly.  "Archie's 
is  —  is  rather  foolish,  Mr.  Carter." 

"So  I  suppose,"  said  I. 

"Dear  boy  !  "   said  Dolly  reflectively. 

"  I  hate  sentiment,"  said  I.  "  Here  's 
a  long  one.     Who  wrote  — ?  " 

"  Oh,  )^ou  must  n't  look  at  that  —  not 
at  that,  above  all !  " 

"Why  above  all?"  I  asked  with  some 
severity. 

Dolly  smiled ;  then  she  observed  in  a 
soothing  tone  : 

"  Perhaps  it  won't  be  '  above  all '  when 
you  've  written  yours,  Mr.  Carter." 

"  By  the  way,"  I  said  carelessly,  "  I 
suppose  Archie  sees  all  of  them?  " 

"  He  has  never  asked  to  see  them," 
answered  Lady  Mickleham. 

The  reply  seemed  satisfactory ;  of 
course,  Archie  had  only  to  ask.  I  took 
a  clean  quill  and  prepared  to  write. 

"  You  promise  to  be  sincere,  you 
know/'   Dolly   reminded   me. 


The   Very  Latest  Thing         97 

I  laid  down  my  pen. 

"  Impossible  !  "   said  I  firmly. 

''  Oh,  but  why,  Mr.  Carter?  " 

*'  There  would  be  an  end  of  our  friend- 
ship." 

'^  Do  you  think  as  badly  of  me  as  all 
that?''  asked  Dolly  with  a  rueful  air. 

I  leant  back  in  my  chair  and  looked  at 
Dolly.  She  looked  at  me.  She  smiled. 
I  may  have  smiled. 

"  Yes,"  said  I. 

**Then  you  need  n't  write  it  quite  all 
down,"  said  Dolly. 

"  I  am  obliged,"  said  I,  taking  up  my 
pen. 

"  You  must  n't  say  what  is  n't  true,  but 
you  need  n't  say  everything  that  is  —  that 
might  be  —  true,"  explained  Dolly. 

This,  again,  seemed  satisfactory.  I  be- 
gan to  write,  Dolly  sitting  opposite  me 
with  her  elbows  on  the  table,  and  watch- 
ing me. 

After  ten  minutes'  steady  work,  which 
included  several  pauses  for  reflection,  I 
threw  down  the  pen,  leant  back  in  my 
chair,  and  lit  a  cigarette. 

"  Now  read  it,"  said  Dolly,  her  chin 
in  her  hands  and  her  eyes  fixed  on 
me. 

7 


98  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  It  is,  on  the  whole,"  I  observed, 
"  complimentary." 

"No,  really?"  said  Dolly.  "Yet  you 
promised  to  be  sincere." 

"  You  would  not  have  had  me  dis- 
agreeable?" I  asked. 

"  That 's  a  different  thing,"  said  Dolly. 
"  Read   it,  please." 

"  Lady  Mickleham,"  I  read,  "  is  usu- 
ally accounted  a  person  of  considerable 
attractions.  She  is  widely  popular,  and 
more  than  one  woman  has  been  known 
to  like  her." 

"  I  don't  quite  understand  that,"  in- 
terrupted Dolly. 

"  It  is  surely  simple,"  said  I ;  and  I 
read  on  without  delay.  "  She  is  kind 
even  to  her  husband,  and  takes  the  ut- 
most pains  to  conceal  from  her  mother- 
in  law  anything  calculated  to  distress 
that  lady." 

"  I  suppose  you  mean  that  to  be 
nice?  "  said  Dolly. 

"  Of  course,"  I  answered ;  and  I  pro- 
ceeded :  "  She  never  gives  pain  to  any 
one,  except  with  the  object  of  giving 
pleasure  to  somebody  else,  and  her 
kindness  is  no  less  widely  diffused  than 
it  is  hearty  and  sincere." 


The   Very  Latest   Thing        99 

"That  really  is  nice,"  said  Dolly, 
smiling. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  I,  smiling  also. 
"  She  is  very  charitable :  she  takes  a 
pleasure  in  encouraging  the  shy  and 
bashful—" 

"  How  ^o you  know  that?  "  asked  Dolly. 

"While,"  I  pursued,  "suffering  with- 
out impatience  a  considerable  amount  of 
self-assurance." 

"  You  can't  know  whether  I  'm  patient 
or  not,"  remarked  Dolly.     "  I  'm  polite." 

"  She  thinks,"  I  read  on,  "  no  evil  of 
the  most  attractive  of  women,  and  has  l. 
smile  for  the  most  unattractive  of  men." 

"You  put  that  very  nicely,"  said  Dolly, 
nodding. 

"The  former  may  constantly  be  seen 
in  her  house — and  the  latter  at  least  as 
often  as  many  people  would  think  de- 
sirable." (Here  for  some  reason  Dolly 
laughed.)  "  Her  intellectual  powers  are 
not  despicable." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Carter." 

"  She  can  say  what  she  means  on  the 
occasions  on  which  she  wishes  to  do 
so,  and  she  is,  at  other  times,  equally 
capable  of  meaning  much  more  than 
she  would  be  likely  to  say." 


100         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  How  do  you  mean  that,  Mr.  Carter, 
please?  " 

"  It  explains  itself."  said  I,  and  I  pro- 
ceeded :  ''  The  fact  of  her  receiving  a 
remark  with  disapprobation  does  not 
necessarily  mean  that  it  causes  her  dis- 
pleasure, nor  must  it  be  assumed  that 
she  did  not  expect  a  visitor,  merely  on 
the  ground  that  she  greets  him  with 
surprise." 

Here  I  observed  Lady  Mickleham  look- 
ing at  me  rather  suspiciously. 

"  I  don't  think  that 's  quite  nice  of 
you,  Mr.   Carter,"  she  said   pathetically. 

*'  Lady  Mickleham  is,  in  short,"  I  went 
on,  coming  to  my  peroration,  '*  equally 
deserving  of    esteem  and   affection  —  " 

"  Esteem  and  affection  !  That  sounds 
just  right,"  said  Dolly  approvingly. 

"And  those  who  have  been  admitted 
to  the  enjoyment  of  her  friendship  are 
unanimous  in  discouraging  all  others 
from  seeking  a   similar  privilege." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  ? "  cried  Lady 
Mickleham. 

"  Are  unanimous,"  I  repeated,  slowly 
and  distincdy,  "  in  discouraging  all  others 
from  seeking  a  similar  privilege." 

Dolly   looked    at    me,  with    her    brow 


The   Very  Latest  Tiling       loi 

slightly  puckered.  I  leant  back,  puffing 
at  my  cigarette.  Presently  —  for  there 
was  quite  a  long  pause  —  Dolly's  lips 
curved. 

"  My  mental  powers  are  not  despica- 
ble," she  observed. 

"I  have  said  so,"  said  I. 

"  I  think  I  see,"  she  remarked. 

"Is  there  anything  wrong?"  I  asked 
anxiously. 

**N-no,"  said  Dolly,  "not  exactly 
wrong.  In  fact,  I  rather  think  I  like 
that  last  bit  best.  Still,  don't  you 
think  —  ?" 

She  rose,  came  round  the  table,  took 
up  the  pen,  and  put  it  back  in  my  hand. 

"  What 's  this  for?  "  I  asked. 

"To  correct  the  mistake,"  said  Dolly. 

"  Do  you  really  think  so?  "   said  I. 

"  I  'm  afraid  so,"  said  Dolly. 

I  took  the  pen  and  made  a  certain 
alteration.  Dolly  took  up  the  album. 
"  'Are  unanimous,'  "  she  read,  "  '  in  en- 
couraging all  others  to  seek  a  similar 
privilege.'  Yes,  you  meant  that,  you 
know,   Mr.   Carter." 

"  I  suppose  I  must  have,"  said  I  rather 
sulkily. 

"  The  other  was  nonsense,"  urged  Dolly. 


102  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

*'  Oh,  utter  nonsense,"  said  I. 

"  And  you  had  to  write  the  truth  !  ** 

"Yes,  I  had  to  write  some  of  it." 

"  And  nonsense  can't  be  the  truth, 
can  it,   Mr.   Carter?  " 

*'  Of  course  it  can't,  Lady  Mickleham." 

"Where  are  you  going,  Mr.  Carter?" 
she  asked  ;  for  1  rose  from  my  chair. 

"  To  have  a  quiet  smoke,"  said  I. 

"Alone?"  asked  Dolly. 

"Yes,  alone,"  said  I. 

I  walked  towards  the  door.  Dolly 
stood  by  the  table  fingering  the  album. 
I  had  almost  reached  the  door ;  then  I 
happened  to  look  round. 

"  Mr.  Carter  !  "  said  Dolly,  as  though 
a  new  idea  had  struck  her. 

"  What  is  it,  Lady  Mickleham  ?  " 

■"  Well,  you  know,  Mr.  Carter,  I  —  I 
«hall  try  to  forget  that  mistake  of  yours." 

"  You  're  very  kind,  Lady  Mickleham." 

"  But,"  said  Dolly,  with  a  troubled 
smile,  "I  —  I  'm  quite  afraid  I  shan't 
succeed,   Mr.   Carter." 

After  all,  the  smoking-room  is  meant 
for  smoking. 


xir 

AN    UNCOUNTED    HOUR 

We  were  standing,  Lady  Mickleham 
and  I,  at  a  door  which  led  from  the 
morning-room  to  the  terrace  at  The 
Towers.  I  was  on  a  visit  to  that  historic 
pile  (by  Vanbrugh  —  out  of  the  money 
accumulated  by  the  third  Earl  —  Pay- 
master to  the  Forces  —  temp.  Queen 
Anne).  The  morning-room  is  a  large 
room.  Archie  was  somewhere  in  it. 
Lady  Mickleham  held  a  jar  containing 
pate  de  foie  gras ;  from  time  to  time  she 
dug  a  piece  out  with  a  fork  and  flung 
the  morsel  to  a  big  retriever  which  was 
sitting  on  the  terrace.  The  morning  was 
fine,  but  cloudy.  Lady  Mickleham  wore 
blue.  The  dog  swallowed  the  pate  with 
greediness. 

"  It 's  so  bad  for  him,"  sighed  she ; 
"  but  the  dear  likes  it  so  much." 

"  How  human  the  creatures  are !  " 
said  L 

"  Do  you  know,"  pursued  Lady  Mickle- 
ham, "  that  the  Dowager  says  I  'm  extrav- 


I04         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

agant.  She  thinks  dogs  ought  not  to  be 
fed  on  pate  defoie  gras^ 

"Your  extravagance,"  I  observed,  "is 
probably  due  to  your  having  been  brought 
up  on  a  moderate  income.  I  have  felt 
the  effect  myself." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Dolly,  "  we  are  hit 
by  the  agricultural  depression." 

"  The  Carters  also,"  I  murmured,  "  are 
landed  gentry." 

"After  all,  I  don't  see  much  point  in 
economy,  do  you,  Mr.  Carter?  " 

"  Economy,"  I  remarked,  putting  my 
hands  in  my  pockets,  "  is  going  without 
something  you  do  want  in  case  you 
should,  some  day,  want  something  which 
you  probably  won't  want." 

"  Is  n't  that  clever  ?  "  asked  Dolly  in 
an  apprehensive  tone. 

"  Oh,  dear  no,"  I  answered  reassur- 
ingly. "  Anybody  can  do  that  —  if  they 
care  to  try,  you  know." 

Dolly  tossed  a  piece  of  pate  to  the 
retriever. 

"  I  have  made  a  discovery  lately,"  I 
observed. 

"What  are  you  two  talking  about?" 
called  Archie. 

"  You  're  not  meant  to  hear,"  said 
Dolly,  without  turning  round. 


An  Uncounted  Hour         105 

"  Yet,  if  it 's  a  discovery,  he  ought  to 
hear  it." 

"  He  's  made  a  good  many  lately,"  said 
Dolly. 

She  dug  out  the  last  bit  oi pate,  flung  it 
to  the  dog,  and  handed  the  empty  pot  to 
me. 

"  Don't  be  so  allegorical,"  I  implored. 
"  Besides,  it 's  really  not  just  to  Archie. 
No  doubt  the  dog  is  a  nice  one,  but  —  " 

"  How  foolish  you  are  this  morning  ! 
What's  the  discovery?" 

**  An  entirely  surprising  one." 

"  Oh,  but  let  me  hear  !  It 's  nothing 
about  Archie,  is  it?  " 

"  No.  I've  told  you  all  Archie's 
sins." 

"  Nor  Mrs.  Hilary  ?  I  wish  it  was 
Mrs.  Hilary  !  " 

"  Shall  we  walk  on  the  terrace?"  I 
suggested. 

"  Oh,  yes,  let 's,"  said  Dolly,  stepping 
out,  and  putting  on  a  broad-brimmed, 
low-crowned  hat,  which  she  caught  up 
from  a  chair  hard  by.  "  It  is  n't  Mrs. 
Hilary?"  she  added,  sitting  down  on  a 
garden  seat. 

"  No,"  said  I,  leaning  on  a  sundial 
which  stood  by  the  seat. 


io6         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

''Well,  what  is  it?" 

'*  It  is  simple,"  said  I,  *' and  serious. 
It  is  not,  therefore,  like  you.  Lady 
Mickleham." 

''  It 's  like  Mrs.  Hilary,"  said  Dolly. 

*'  No  j  because  it  is  n't  pleasant.  By 
the  way,  are  you  jealous  of  Mrs.  Hilary?" 

Dolly  said  nothing  at  all.  She  took  off 
her  hat,  roughened  her  hair  a  little,  and 
assumed  an  effective  pose.  Still,  it  is  a 
fact  (for  what  it  is  worth)  that  she 
doesn't  care  much  about  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  The  discovery,"  I  continued,  "  is 
that  I'm  growing  middle-aged." 

"  You  are  middle-aged,"  said  Dolly, 
spearing  her  hat  with  its  long  pin. 

I  was,  very  naturally,  nettled  at  this. 

*'So  will  you  be  soon,"  I  retorted. 

"  Not  soon,"  said  Dolly. 

"  Some  day,"  I  insisted. 

After  a  pause  of  about  half  a  minute, 
Dolly  said,  "  I  suppose  so." 

*'You  will  become,"  I  pursued,  idly 
drawing  patterns  with  my  finger  on  the 
sundial,  *'  wrinkled,  rough,  fat  —  and, 
perhaps,  good." 

*'  You  're  very  disagreeable  to-day," 
said  Dolly. 

She  rose  and  stood  bv  me. 


An    Uncounted  Hour         107 

"What  do  the  mottoes  mean?"  she 
asked. 

There  were  two  :  I  will  not  say  they 
contradicted  one  another,  but  they  looked 
at  life  from  different  points  of  view. 

"  Pereunt  et  impiitantury^  I  read. 

"  Well,  what 's  that,  Mr.  Carter?  " 

"  A  trite,  but  offensive,  assertion,"  said 
I,  lighting  a  cigarette. 

"  But  what  does  it  mean?  "  she  asked, 
a  pucker  on  her  forehead. 

"What  does  it  matter?"  said  I. 
"Let's  try  the  other." 

"  The  other  is  longer." 

"  And  better.  Horas  nan  numero  nisi 
Serenas  y 

"And  what's  that?" 

I  translated  literally.  Dolly  clapped 
her  hands,  and  her  face  gleamed  with 
smiles. 

"  I  like  that  one  !  "  she  cried. 

"  Stop  !  "  said  I  imperatively.  "  You  '11 
set  it  moving  !  " 

"  It 's  very  sensible,"  said  she. 

"  More  freely  rendered,  it  means  '  I 
live  only  when  you  — '  " 

"  By  Jove  !  "  remarked  Archie,  com- 
ing up  behind  us,  pipe  in  mouth,  "  there 
was  a  lot  of  rain  last  night.  I  've  just 
measured  it  in  the  gauge." 


io8  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  Some  people  measure  everything,'* 
said  I,  with  a  displeased  air.  "  It  is  a 
detestable  habit." 

"  Archie,  what  does  Pereunt  et  impu- 
tantur mean?  " 

"Eh?  Oh,  I  see.  Well  I  say.  Car- 
ter !  —  Oh,  well,  you  know,  I  suppose  it 
means  you  've  got  to  pay  for  your  fun, 
doesn't  it?" 

"  Oh,  is  that  all  ?  I  was  afraid  it  was 
something  horrid.  Why  did  you  frighten 
me,  Mr.  Carter?" 

"  I  think  it  is  rather  horrid,"  said  I. 

"Why,  it  isn't  even  true,"  said  Dolly 
scornfully. 

Now  when  I  heard  -this  ancient  and 
respectable  legend  thus  cavalierly  chal- 
lenged, I  fell  to  studying  it  again,  and 
presently  I  exclaimed  : 

"  Yes,  you  're  right !  If  it  said  that, 
it  would  n't  be  true  ;  but  Archie  trans- 
lated wrong." 

"  Well,  you  have  a  shot,"  suggested 
Archie. 

"  The  oysters  are  eaten  and  put  down 
in  the  bill,"  said  I.  "  And  you  will  ob- 
serve, Archie,  that  it  does  not  say  in 
whose  bill." 

"Ah!"  said  Dolly. 


An   Uncotmtcd  Hotir         109 

"Well,  somebody's  got  to  pay,"  per- 
sisted Archie. 

"  Oh,  yes,  somebody,"  laughed  Dolly. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  Archie. 
"  I  suppose  the  chap  that  has  the  fun  —  " 

"It's  not  always  a  chap,"  observed 
Dolly. 

"Well,  then,  the  individual,"  amended 
Archie.     "I  suppose  he  'd  have  to  pay." 

"  It  does  n't  say  so,"  I  remarked 
mildly.  "And  according  to  my  small 
experience  —  " 

"  I  'm  quite  sure  your  meaning  is  right, 
Mr.  Carter,"  said  Dolly,  in  an  authorita- 
tive tone. 

"  As  for  the  other  motto,  Archie,"  said 
I,  "  it  merely  means  that  a  woman  con- 
siders all  hours  wasted  which  she  does 
not  spend  in  the  society  of  her  husband." 

"  Oh,  come,  you  don't  gammon  me," 
said  Archie.  "  It  means  that  the  sun 
don't  shine  unless  it 's  fine,  you  know." 

Archie  delivered  this  remarkable  dis- 
covery in  a  tone  of  great  self-satisfaction. 

"  Oh,  you  dear  old  thing !  "  said 
Dolly. 

"  Well,  it  does,  you  know,"  said  he. 

There  was  a  pause.  Archie  kissed  his 
wife  (I  am  not  complaining ;  he  has,  of 


no         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

course,  a  perfect  right  to  kiss  his  wife) 
and  strolled  away  towards  the  hot-houses. 

I  lit  another  cigarette.  Then  Dolly, 
pointing  to  the  stem  of  the  dial,  cried  : 

"Why,  here  's  another  inscription  — 
oh,  and  in  English  !  " 

She  was  right.  There  was  another  — 
carelessly  scratched  on  the  old  battered 
column  —  nearly  effaced,  for  the  charac- 
ters had  been  but  lightly  marked  —  and 
yet  not,  as  I  conceived  from  the  tenor  of 
the  words,  very  old. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Dolly,  peering 
over  my  shoulder,  as  1  bent  down  to  read 
the  letters,  and  shading  her  eyes  with  her 
hand.  (Why  did  n't  she  put  on  her  hat? 
We  touch  the  Incomprensible.) 

"  It  is,"  said  I,  "  a  singularly  poor, 
shallow,  feeble,  and  undesirable  little 
verse." 

"  Read  it  out,"  said  Dolly. 

So  I  read  it.  The  silly  fellow  had 
written : 

Life  is  Love,  the  poets  tell  us, 

In  the  little  books  they  sell  us  ; 

But  pray,  ma'am  —  what 's  of  Life  the  Use, 

If  Life  be  Love  ?     For  Love  's  the  Deuce. 

Dolly  began  to  laugh  gently,  digging 
the  pin  again  into  her  hat. 


An  Uncounted  Hour         in 

"  I  wonder,"  said  she,  "  whether  they 
used  to  CQme  and  sit  by  this  old  dial  just 
as  we  did  this  morning  !  " 

"  I  should  n't  be  at  all  surprised,"  said 
I.  ''  And  another  point  occurs  to  me, 
Lady  Mickleham." 

"  Oh,  does  it  ?  What 's  that,  Mr. 
Carter?" 

"  Do  you  think  that  anybody  measured 
the  rain-gauge?  " 

Dolly  looked  at  me  very  gravely. 

"  I  'm  so  sorry  when  you  do  that,"  said 
she  pathetically. 

I  smiled. 

"  I  really  am,"  said  Dolly.  "  But  you 
don't  mean  it,  do  you?  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  I. 

Dolly  smiled. 

"  No  more  than  he  did  !  "  said  I, 
pointing  to  the  sun-dial. 

And  then  we  both  smiled. 

*'Will  this  hour  count,  Mr.  Carter?" 
asked  Dolly,  as  she  turned  away. 

"  That  would  be  rather  strict,"  said  I. 


XIII 
A   REMINISCENCE 

"  I  KNOW  exactly  what  your  mother 
wants,   Phylhs,"  observed  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  It 's  just  to  teach  them  the  ordinary 
things,"  said  little  Miss  Phyllis. 

"What  are  the  ordinary  things?"  I 
ventured  to  ask. 

"  What  all  girls  are  taught,  of  course, 
Mr.  Carter,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary.  "  I  '11 
write  about  it  at  once."  And  she  looked 
at  me  as  if  she  thought  that  I  might  be 
about  to  go. 

"  It  is  a  comprehensive  curriculum," 
I  remarked,  crossing  my  legs,  "  if  one 
may  judge  from  the  results.  How  old 
are  your  younger  sisters.  Miss  Phylhs?" 

"  Fourteen  and  sixteen,"  she  answered. 

''  It  is  a  pity,"  said  I,  "  that  this  did  n't 
happen  a  little  while  back.  I  knew  a 
governess  who  would  have  suited  the 
place  to  a  U '." 

Mrs.  Hilary  smiled  scornfully. 

"  We  used  to  meet,"  I  continued. 


A  Rernitiiscence  1 1 3 

"Who  used  to  meet?"  asked  Miss 
Phyllis. 

"The  governess  and  myself,  to  be 
sure,"  said  I,  "  under  the  old  apple-tree 
in  the  garden  at  the  back  of  the  house." 

"What  house,  Mr.  Carter?" 

"My  father's  house,  of  course.  Miss 
Phyllis.     And  —  " 

"  Oh,  but  that  must  be  ages  ago  !  "  cried 
she. 

Mrs.  Hilary  rose,  cast  one  glance  at 
me,  and  turned  to  the  writing-table. 
Her  pen  began  to  scratch  almost  imme- 
diately. 

"And  under  the  apple-tree,"  I  pur- 
sued, "we  had  many  pleasant  conver- 
sations." 

"What  about?"  asked  Miss  Phyllis. 

"  One  thing  and  another,"  I  returned. 
"The  schoolroom  windows  looked  out 
that  way  —  a  circumstance  which  made 
matters  more  comfortable  for  every- 
body." 

"  I  should  have  thought  — "  began 
Miss  PhyUis,  smiling  slightly,  but  keep- 
ing an  apprehensive  eye  on  Mrs.  Hilary's 
back. 

"  Not  at  all,"  I  interrupted.  "  My 
sisters  saw  us,  you  see.  Well,  of  course 
8 


114         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

they  entertained  an  increased  respect 
for  me,  which  was  all  right,  and  a  de- 
creased respect  for  the  governess,  which 
was  also  all  right.  We  met  in  the  hour 
allotted  to  French  lessons  —  by  an  unde- 
signed but  appropriate  coincidence." 

"  I  shall  say  about  thirty-five,  Phyllis," 
called  Mrs.  Hilary  from  the  writing-table. 

"  Yes,  Cousin  Mary,"  called  Miss 
Phyllis.  *'  Did  you  meet  often,  Mr. 
Carter?" 

**  Every  evening  in  the  French  hour," 
said  I. 

*'  She  '11  have  got  over  any  nonsense 
by  then,"  called  Mrs.  Hilary.  "They  're 
often  full  of  it." 

"She  had  remarkably  pretty  hair,"  I 
continued ;  "  very  soft  it  was.  Dear 
me  !     I  was  just  twenty." 

"How  old  was  she?"  asked  Miss 
Phyllis. 

"  One  's  first  love,"  said  I,  "  is  never 
any  age.  Everything  went  very  well. 
Happiness  was  impossible.  I  was  heart- 
broken, and  the  governess  was  far  from 
happy.     Ah,  happy,  happy  times  !  " 

"  But  you  don't  seem  to  have  been 
happy,"  objected  Miss  Phyllis. 

"  Then  came  a  terrible  evening  —  " 


A  Rejniniscence  1 1 5 

"She  ought  to  be  a  person  of  active 
habits,"  called  Mrs.   Hilary. 

''  I  think  so,  yes,  Cousin  Mary.  Oh, 
what  happened,  Mr.  Carter?" 

"And  an  early  riser,"  added  Mrs. 
Hilary. 

"Yes,  Cousin  Mary.  What  did  hap- 
pen, Mr.  Carter?  " 

"  My  mother  came  in  during  the 
French  hour.  I  don't  know  whether 
you  have  observed.  Miss  Phyllis,  how 
easy  it  is  to  slip  into  the  habit  of  enter- 
ing rooms  when  you  had  better  remain 
outside.  Now,  even  my  friend  Arch  — 
However,  that 's  neither  here  nor  there. 
My  mother,  as  I  say,  came  in." 

"  Church  of  England,  of  course,  Phyllis  ?" 
called  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"Oh,  of  course,  Cousin  Mary,"  cried 
little  Miss  Phyllis. 

"  The  sect  makes  no  difference,"  I  ob- 
served. "  Well,  my  sisters,  like  good 
girls,  began  to  repeat  the  irregular  verbs. 
But  it  was  no  use.  We  were  discovered. 
That  night.  Miss  Phyllis,  I  nearly 
drowned  myself," 

"  You  must  have  been  —  Oh,  how 
awful,  Mr.  Carter  !  " 

"That  is  to  say,  I  thought  how  effec- 


1 1 6  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

tive    it  would    be  if   I    drowned    myself. 
Ah,  well,  it  could  n't  last !  " 

"  And  the  governess?  " 

"  She  left  next  morning." 

There  was  a  pause.  Miss  Phyllis 
looked  sad  and  thoughtful :  I  smiled 
pensively  and  beat  my  cane  against  my 
leg. 

"Have  you  ever  seen  her  since?'" 
asked  Miss  Phyllis. 

"  No." 

"Shouldn't  —  shouldn't  you  like  to, 
Mr.  Carter?  " 

"  Heaven  forbid  !  "  said  I. 

Suddenly  Mrs.  Hilary  pushed  back  her 
chair,  and  turned  round  to  us. 

"Well,  I  declare,"  said  she,  "I  must 
be  growing  stupid.  Here  have  I  been 
writing  to  the  Agency,  when  I  know  of 
the  very  thing  myself!  The  Polwhee- 
dles'  governess  is  just  leaving  them ; 
she 's  been  there  over  fifteen  years. 
Lady  Polwheedle  told  me  she  was  a 
treasure.     I  wonder  if  she  'd  go  !  " 

"  Is  she  what  mamma  wants?  " 

"  My  dear,  you  '11  be  most  lucky  to  get 
her.  I  '11  write  at  once  and  ask  her  to 
come  to  lunch  to-morrow.  I  met  her 
there.     She  's  an  admirable  person." 


A  Reminiscejice  1 1 7 

Mrs.  Hilary  wheeled  round  again.  I 
shook  my  head  at  Miss  PhyUis. 

"  Poor  children  !  "  said  I.  "  Manage 
a  bit  of  fun  for  them  sometimes." 

Miss  Phyllis  assumed  a  staid  and  vir- 
tuous air. 

"  They  must  be  properly  brought  up, 
Mr.  Carter,"  said  she. 

"Is  there  a  House  Opposite?"  I 
asked ;  and  Miss  Phyllis  blushed. 

Mrs.  Hilary  advanced,  holding  out  a 
letter. 

"  You  may  as  well  post  this  for  me," 
said  she.  "  Oh,  and  would  you  like  to 
come  to  lunch  to-morrow?" 

"  To  meet  the  Paragon?  " 

"  No.  She  '11  be  there,  of  course  ;  but 
you  see  it 's  Saturday,  and  Hilary  will  be 
here ;  and  I  thought  you  might  take  him 
off  somewhere  and  leave  Phyllis  and  me 
to  have  a  quiet  talk  with  her." 

"That  won't  amuse  her  much,"  I  ven- 
tured to  remark. 

"  She 's  not  coming  to  be  amitsed,'' 
said  Mrs.  Hilary  severely. 

"All  right;  I'll  come,"  said  I,  taking 
my  hat. 

"  Here  's  the  note  for  Miss  Banner- 
man,"  said  Mrs.   Hilary. 


1 1 8         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

That  sort  of  thing  never  surprises  me. 
I  looked  at  the  letter  and  read  "  Miss 
M.  E.  Bannerman."  ''M.  E."  stood  for 
"  Maud  Elizabeth."  I  put  my  hat  back 
on  the  table. 

"  What  sort  of  a  looking  person  is  this 
Miss  Bannerman?"  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  a  spare,  upright  woman  —  hair 
a  little  gray,  and  —  I  don't  know  how 
to  describe  it  —  her  face  looks  a  little 
weather-beaten.     She  wears  glasses." 

''Thank  you,"  said  I.  "And  what 
sort  of  a  looking  person  am  I?" 

Mrs.  Hilary  looked  scornful.  Miss 
Phyllis  opened  her  eyes. 

"How  old  do  I  look,  Miss  Phyllis?" 
I  asked. 

Miss  Phyllis  scanned  me  from  top  to 
toe. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  said  uncomfort- 
ably. 

"  Guess,"  said  I  sternly. 

"  F-forty- three  —  oh,  or  forty-two?" 
she  asked,  with   a  timid   upward  glance. 

"When  you  've  done  your  nonsense  —  " 
began  Mrs.  Hilary ;  but  I  laid  a  hand  on 
her  arm. 

"  Should  you  call  me  fat?  "  I  asked. 

"Oh,  no,  XioX.  fat,''  said   Mrs.   Hilary, 


A  Reminiscence  1 19 

with  a  smile,  which  she  strove  to  render 
reassuring. 

"  I  am  undoubtedly  bald,"  I  observed. 

"  You  're  certainly  bald,"  said  Mrs. 
Hilary,  with  regretful  candor. 

I  took  my  hat  and  remarked  : 

"A  man  has  a  right  to  think  of  him- 
self but  I  am  not  thinking  mainly  of 
myself.     I  shall  not  come  to  lunch." 

"You  said  you  would,"  cried  Mrs. 
Hilary  indignantly. 

I  poised  the  letter  in  my  hand,  read- 
ing again,  ''Miss  M(aud)  E(lizabeth) 
Bannerman."  Miss  Phyllis  looked  at  me 
curiously,  Mrs.  Hilary  impatiently. 

"Who  knows,"  said  I,  "that  I  may 
not  be  a  Romance  —  a  Vanished  Dream 
—  a  Green  Memory  —  an  Oasis?  A  per- 
son who  has  the  fortune  to  be  an  Oasis, 
Miss  Phyllis,  should  be  very  careful.  I 
will  not  come  to  lunch." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  used  to  know 
Miss  Bannerman?"  asked  Mrs.  Hilary 
in  her  pleasant  prosaic  way. 

It  was  a  sin  seventeen  years  old  :  it 
would  hardly  count  against  the  blameless 
Miss  Bannerman  now. 

"  You  may  tell  her  when  I  'm  gone," 
said  I  to  Miss  Phyllis. 


120         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

Miss  Phyllis  whispered  in  Mrs.  Hil- 
ary's ear. 

"  Another  !  "   cried  Mrs.  Hilary,  aghast. 

"  It  was  the  very  first,"  said  I,  defend- 
ing myself. 

Mrs.  Hilary  began  to  laugh.  I  smoothed 
my  hat. 

"  Tell  her,"  said  I,  "  that  I  remembered 
her  very  well." 

"  I  shall  do  no  such  thing,"  said  Mrs. 
Hilary. 

"  And  tell  her,"  I  continued,  "  that  I 
am  still  handsome." 

*'  I  shan't  say  a  word  about  you,"  said 
Mrs.  Hilary. 

"Ah,  well,  that  will  be  better  still," 
said  I. 

"  She  '11  have  forgotten  your  very 
name,"  remarked   Mrs.  Hilary. 

I  opened  the  door,  but  a  thought 
struck  me.  I  turned  round  and  ob- 
served : 

"  I  dare  say  her  hair  's  just  as  soft  as 
ever.     Still  —  I  '11  lunch  some  other  day." 


XIV 
A   FINE    DAY 

*'  I  SEE  nothing  whatever  to  laugh  at," 
said  Mrs.  Hilary  coldly,  when  I  had 
finished. 

"I  did  not  ask  you  to  laugh,"  I  ob- 
served mildly.  "  I  mentioned  it  merely 
as  a  typical  case." 

"  It  's  not  typical,"  she  said,  and  took 
up  her  embroidery.  But  a  moment  later 
she  added, 

"  Poor  boy  !     I  'm  not  surprised  !  " 

*'  I  'm  not  surprised  either,"  I  re- 
marked. "  It  is,  however,  extremely 
deplorable." 

"  It 's  your  own  fault.  Why  did  you 
introduce  him?  " 

"  A  book,"  I  observed,  "  might  be 
written  on  the  Injustice  of  the  Just. 
How  could  I  suppose  that  he  would  —  ?  " 

By  the  way,  I  may  as  well  state  what 
he  —  that  is,  my  young  cousin  George  — 
had  done.  Unless  one  is  a  genius,  it  is 
best  to  aim  at  being  intelHgible. 


I 


122  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

Well,  he  was  in  love ;  and  with  a  view 
of  providing  him  with  another  house  at 
which  he  might  be  likely  to  meet  the 
adored  object,  I  presented  him  to  my 
friend  Lady  Mickleham.  That  was  on  a 
Tuesday.  A  fortnight  later,  as  I  was  sit- 
ting in  Hyde  Park  (as  I  sometimes  do), 
George  came  up  and  took  the  chair  next 
to  me.  I  gave  him  a  cigarette,  but  made 
no  remark.  George  beat  his  cane  rest- 
lessly against  the  leg  of  his  trousers. 

"  I  've  got  to  go  up  to-morrow,"  he 
remarked. 

"  Ah,  well,  Oxford  is  a  delightful 
town,"  said  I. 

"  D — d  hole,"  observed  George. 

I  was  about  to  contest  this  opinion 
when  a  victoria  drove  by. 

A  girl  sat  in  it,  side  by  side  with  a 
portly  lady. 

"  George,  George  !  "  I  cried.  "  There 
she  is  —  Look  !  " 

George  looked,  raised  his  hat  with  suffi- 
cient politeness,  and  remarked  to  me, 

'•  Hang  it,  one  sees  those  people 
everywhere." 

I  am  not  easily  surprised,  but  I  confess 
I  turned  to  George  with  an  expression  of 
wonder. 


A  Fine  Day  123 

" A  fortnight  ago  —  "I  began. 

"Don't  be  an  ass,  Sam,"  said  George, 
rather  sharply.  "  She  's  not  a  bad  girl, 
but  — "  He  broke  off  and  began  to 
whistle. 

There  was  a  long  pause.  I  lit  a  cigar, 
and  looked  at  the  people. 

"  I  lunched  at  the  Micklehams'  to- 
day," said  George,  drawing  a  figure  on 
the  gravel  with  his  cane.  "  Mickleham  's 
not  a  bad  fellow." 

"  One  of  the  best  fellows  alive,"  I 
agreed. 

"  I  wonder  why  she  married  him, 
though,"  mused  George ;  and  he  added, 
with  apparent  irrelevance,  ''  It 's  a  dashed 
bore,  going  up."  And  then  a  smile  spread 
over  his  face ;  a  blush  accompanied  it, 
and  proclaimed  George's  sense  of  deli- 
cious wickedness.     I  turned  on  him. 

"  Out  with  it !  "  said  I. 

"It's  nothing.  Don't  be  a  fool,"  said 
George. 

"Where  did  you  get  that  rose?"  I 
asked. 

"This  rose?"  he  repeated,  fondling 
the  blossom.     "  It  was  given  to  me." 

Upon  this  I  groaned  —  and  I  still  con- 
sider that  I  had  good  reason  for  my 
action.     It  was  the  groan  of  a  moralist. 


124         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  They  Ve  asked  me  to  stay  at  The 
Towers  next  vac,"  said  George,  glancing 
at  me  out  of  the  corner  of  an  immoral 
eye.  Perhaps  he  thought  it  too  im- 
moral, for  he  added,  *'  It  's  all  right, 
Sam."  I  believe  that  I  have  as  much 
self-control  as  most  people,  but  at  this 
point  I  chuckled. 

"  What  the  deuce  are  you  laughing 
at?  "  asked  George. 

I  made  no  answer,  and  he  went  on  — 
"  You  never  told    me  what   a  —  what 
she  was  like,  Sam.     Wanted  to  keep  it  to 
yourself,  you  old  dog." 

"  George  —  George  —  George  !  "    said 
I.     "You  go  up  to-morrow?  " 
"Yes,  confound  it  !  " 
"And  term  lasts  two  months?" 
"Yes —  hang  it !  "    ^ 
"All  is  well,"  said  I,  crossing  my  legs. 
"There  is    more    virtue    in    two    months 
than  in  Ten  Commandments." 

George  regarded  me  with  a  dispassion- 
ate air. 

"You're  an  awful  ass  sometimes,"  he 
observed  critically,  and  he  rose  from  his 
seat. 

"  Must  you  go  ?  "  said  I. 
"  Yes  —  got  a  lot  of  things  to  do.    Look 
here,  Sam,  don't  go  and  talk  about  —  " 


A  Fine  Day  125 

"Talk  about  what?" 

"  Anything,  you  old  idiot,"  said  George, 
with  a  pleased  smile,  and  he  dug  me  in 
the  ribs  with  his  cane,  and  departed. 

I  sat  on,  admiring  the  simple  elements 
which  constitute  the  happiness  of  the 
young.  Alas  !  with  advancing  years. 
Wrong  loses  half  its  flavor  !  To  be  im- 
proper ceases,  by  itself,  to  satisfy. 

Immersed  in  these  reflections,  I  failed 
to  notice  that  a  barouche  had  stopped 
opposite  to  me  ;  and  suddenly  I  found  a 
footman  addressing  me. 

"  Beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  he  said. 
"  Her  ladyship  wishes  to  speak  to  you." 

"  It  is  a  blessed  thing  to  be  young,  Mar- 
tin," I  observed. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Martin.  "  It 's  a  fine 
day,   sir." 

*^  But  very  short,"  said  I.  Martin  is 
respectful,  and  said  nothing  —  to  me,  at 
least.  What  he  said  to  the  coachman,  I 
don't  know. 

And  then  I  went  up  to  Dofly. 

<'Get  in  and  drive  round,"  suggested 
Dolly. 

"I  can't,"  said  I.  "  I  have  a  bad  nose." 

"  What 's  the  matter  with  your  nose  ?  " 
asked  Dolly,  smiling. 


126         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"The  joint  is  injured,"  said  I,  getting 
into  the  barouche.  And  I  added  se- 
verely, "  I  suppose  I  'd  better  sit  with  my 
back  to  the  horses  !  " 

"  Oh,  no,  you  're  not  my  husband," 
said  Dolly.  "  Sit  here  ;  "  and  she  made 
room  by  her,  as  she  continued,  "  I  rather 
like   Mr.  George." 

"  I  'm  ashamed  of  you,"  I  observed. 
"  Considering  your  age  —  " 

"  Mr.  Carter  !  " 

"  Considering,  I  say,  his  age,  your  con- 
duct is  scandalous.  I  shall  never  intro- 
duce any  nice  boys  to  you  again." 

"Oh,  please  do,"  said  Dolly,  clasping 
her  hands. 

"You  give  them  roses,"  said  I,  accus- 
ingly. "  You  make  them  false  to  their 
earliest  loves —  " 

"  She  was  a  pudding-faced  thing," 
observed  Dolly. 

I  frowned.  Dolly,  by  an  accident, 
allowed  the  tip  of  her  finger  to  touch  my 
arm  for  an  instant. 

"  He  's  a  nice  boy,"  said  she.  "  How 
like  he  is  to  you,  Mr.  Carter  !  " 

"I  am  a  long  way  past  that,"  said  I. 
"  I  am  thirty- six." 

"  If  you    mean  to   be   disagreeable  ! " 


A  Fine  Day  127 

said  she,  turning  away.  ''  I  beg  your 
pardon  for  touching  you,  Mr.  Carter." 

"  I  did  not  notice  it,  Lady  Mickleham." 

"Would  you  Uke  to  get  out?  " 

"It's  miles  from  my  club,"  said  I  dis- 
contentedly. 

"  He  's  such  fun,"  said  Dolly,  with  a 
sudden  smile.  "  He  told  Archie  that  I 
was  the  most  charming  woman  in  London  ! 
You  've  never  done  that  !  " 

"  He  said  the  same  about  the  pudding- 
faced  girl,"  I  observed. 

There  was  a  pause.  Then  Dolly 
asked : 

"  How  is  your  nose?  " 

"The  carriage-exercise  is  doing  it 
good,"  said  L 

"  If,"  observed  Dolly,  "  he  is  so  silly 
now,  what  will  he  be  at  your  age?" 

"  A  wise  man,"  said  I. 

"  He  suggested  that  I  might  write  to 
him,"  bubbled  Dolly. 

Now  when  Dolly  bubbles  —  an  opera- 
tion which  includes  a  sudden  turn  towards 
me,  a  dancing  of  eyes,  a  dart  of  a  small 
hand,  a  hurried  rush  of  words,  checked 
and  confused  by  a  speedier  gust  of  gurg- 
ling sound  —  I  am  in  the  habit  of  ceasing 
to  argue  the  question.     BubbHng  is  not 


128  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

to  be  met  by  arguing.  I  could  only 
say : 

*'  He  '11  have  forgotten  by  the  end  of 
the  term." 

"  He  '11  remember  two  days  later,"  re- 
torted Dolly. 

"  Stop  the  carriage,"  said  I.  "  I  shall 
tell  Mrs.  Hilary  all  about  it." 

"  I  won't  stop  the  carriage,"  said  Dolly. 
"  I  'm  going  to  take  you  home  with  me." 

"  I  am  at  a  premium  to-day,"  I  said 
sardonically. 

*'  One  must  have  something,"  said 
Dolly.  '*  How  is  your  nose  now,  Mr. 
Carter?" 

I  looked  at  Dolly.  I  had  better  not 
have  done  that. 

''Would  afternoon  tea  hurt  it?"  she 
inquired  anxiously. 

"  It  would  do  it  good,"  said  I  deci- 
sively. 

And  that  is  absolutely  the  whole  story. 
And  what  in  the  world  Mrs.  Hilary  found 
to  disapprove  of  I  don't  know  —  espe- 
cially as  I  did  n't  tell  her  half  of  it !  But 
she  did  disapprove.  However,  she  Jooks 
very  well  when  she  disapproves. 


XV 

THE  HOUSE  OPPOSITE 

We  were  talking  over  the  sad  case  of 
young  Algy  Groom ;  I  was  explaining 
to  Mrs.  Hilary  exactly  what  had  happened. 

*' His  father  gave  him,"  said  I,  "a 
hundred  pounds,  to  keep  him  for  three 
months  in  Paris  while  he  learnt  French." 

*'  And  very  liberal  too,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  It  depends  where  you  dine,"  said  I. 
"  However,  that  question  did  not  arise, 
for  Algy  went  to  the  Grand  Prix  the  day 
after  he  arrived  —  " 

"A  horse  race?''  asked  Mrs.  Hilary 
with  great  contempt. 

"  Certainly  the  competitors  are  horses," 
I  rejoined.  "And  there  he,  most  unfor- 
tunately, lost  the  whole  sum,  without  learn- 
ing any  French  to  speak  of." 

"  How  disgusting  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Hilary,  and  little  Miss  Phyllis  gasped  in 
horror. 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  Hilary,  with  much 
bravery  (as  it  struck  me),  "his  father's 
very  well  off." 

9 


130         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

*'  That  does  n't  make  it  a  bit  better," 
declared  his  wife. 

"  There 's  no  mortal  sin  in  a  little 
betting,  my  dear.     Boys  will  be  boys  —  " 

"  And  even  that,"  I  interposed, 
*'  would  n't  matter  if  we  could  only  pre- 
vent girls  from  being  girls." 

Mrs.  Hilary,  taking  no  notice  what- 
ever of  me,  pronounced  sentence.  "  He 
grossly  deceived  his  father,"  she  said,  and 
took  up  her  embroidery. 

"  Most  of  us  have  grossly  deceived 
our  parents  before  now,"  said  I.  ''  We 
should  all  have  to  confess  to  something  of 
the  sort." 

"  I  hope  you  're  speaking  for  your  own 
sex,"  observed  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  Not  more  than  yours,"  said  I.  "  You 
used  to  meet  Hilary  on  the  pier  when 
your  father  was  n't  there  —  you  told  me 
so." 

"  Father  had  authorized  my  acquaint- 
ance with  Hilary." 

"  I  hate  quibbles,"  said  I. 

There  was  a  pause.  Mrs.  Hilary 
stitched :  Hilary  observed  that  the  day 
was   fine. 

*'  Now,"  I  pursued  carelessly,  "  even 
Miss  Phyllis  here  has  been  known  to 
deceive  her  parents." 


The  House  Opposite  131 

"Oh,  let  the  poor  child  alone,  any- 
how," said  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"Haven't  you?"  said  I  to  Miss 
Phyllis. 

I  expected  an  indignant  denial.  So 
did  Mrs.  Hilary,  for  she  remarked  with 
a  sympathetic  air, 

"  Never  mind  his  folly,  Phyllis  dear." 

"  Have  n't  you,  Miss  Phyllis?  "  said  I. 

Miss  Phyllis  grew  very  red.  Fearing 
that  I  was  causing  her  pain,  1  was  about 
to  observe  on  the  prospects  of  a  Dissolu- 
tion when  a  shy  smile  spread  over  Miss 
Phyllis's  face. 

"  Yes,  once,"  said  she  with  a  timid 
glance  at  Mrs.  Hilary,  who  immediately 
laid  down  her  embroidery. 

"  Out  with  it,"  I  cried,  triumphantly. 
"  Come  along.  Miss  Phyllis.  We  won't 
tell,  honor  bright  !  " 

Miss  Phyllis  looked  again  at  Mrs. 
Hilary.     Mrs.  Hilary  is  human  : 

"Well,  Phyllis  dear,"  said  she,  "after 
all  this  time  I  should  n't  think  it  my 
duty—" 

"  It  only  happened  last  summer,"  said 
Miss  Phyllis. 

■Mrs.  Hilary  looked  rather  put  out. 

"  Still,"  she  began  — 


132  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

*' We  must  have  the  story,"  said  I. 

Little  Miss  Phylhs  put  down  the  sock 
she  had  been  knitting. 

"  I  was  very  naughty,"  she  remarked. 
"  It  was  my  last  term  at  school." 

"  I  know  that  age,"  said  I  to  Hilary. 

"  My  window  looked  out  towards  the 
street.  You  're  sure  you  won't  tell? 
Well,  there  was  a  house  opposite  —  " 

*'  And  a  young  man  in  it,"  said  I. 

"How  did  you  -know  that?"  asked 
Miss  Phyllis,  blushing  immensely. 

''No  girls'  school  can  keep  up  its  num- 
bers without  one,"  I  explained. 

''Well,  there  was,  anyhow,"  said  Miss 
Phyllis.  "  And  I  and  two  other  girls 
went  to  a  course  of  lectures  at  the  Tovyn 
Hall  on  literature  or  something  of  that 
kind.  We  used  to  have  a  shilling  given 
us  for  our  tickets." 

"  Precisely,"  said  I.  "  A  hundred 
pounds !  " 

"  No,  a  shilling,"  corrected  Miss 
Phyllis.  "  A  hundred  pounds  !  How  ab- 
surd, Mr.  Carter  !  Well,  one  day  I  —  I  —  " 

"  You  're  sure  you  wish  to  go  on, 
Phyllis?"  asked  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"You're  afraid,  Mrs.  Hilary,"  said  I 
severely. 


The  House  Opposite  133 

"  Nonsense,  Mr.  Carter.  I  thought 
PhylUs  might  —  " 

'^  I  don't  mind  going  on,"  said  Miss 
Phyllis,  smiling.  "  One  day  I  —  I  lost 
the  other  girls." 

"  The  other  girls  are  always  easy  to 
lose,"  I  observed. 

"  And  on  the  way  there  —  oh,  you 
know,  he  went  to  the  lectures." 

"The  young  dog,"  said  I,  nudging 
Hilary.     "  I  should  think  he  did  !  " 

"  On  the  way  there  it  became  rather  — 
rather  foggy." 

"  Blessings  on  it !  "  I  cried ;  for  little 
Miss  Phyllis's  demure  but  roguish  expres- 
sion delighted  me. 

"  And  he  —  he  found  me  in  the  fog." 

"What  are  you  doing,  Mr.  Carter?" 
cried  Mrs.  Hilary  angrily. 

"Nothing,  nothing,"  said  I.  I  believe 
I  had  winked  at  Hilary. 

"And  —  and  we  couldn't  find  the 
Town  Hall." 

"  Oh,  Phyllis  !  "  groaned  Mrs.  Hilary. 

Little  Miss  Phyllis  looked  alarmed  for  a 
moment.     Then  she  smiled. 

"  But  we  found  the  confectioner's," 
said  she. 

"The  Grand  Prix,''  said  I,  pointing 
my  forefinger  at  Hilary. 


134         1^^^^  Dolly  Dialogues 

*'  He  had  no  money  at  all,"  said  Miss 
Phyllis. 

"It's  ideal!"  said  I. 

"  And  —  and  we  had  tea  on  —  on  —  " 

*'The  shilHng?"  I  cried  in  rapture. 

"  Yes,"  said  little  Miss  Phyllis,  ''  on  the 
shilling.     And  he  saw  me  home." 

"  Details,  please,"  said  I. 

Litde  Miss  Phyllis  shook  her  head. 

*'  And  left  me  at  the  door." 

*' Was  it  still  foggy?  "  I  asked. 

"  Yes.     Or  he  would  n't  have  —  " 

"  Now  what  did  he  — ?  " 

"  Come  to  the  door,  Mr.  Carter,"  said 
Miss  Phyllis,  with  obvious  weariness. 
*'  Oh,  and  it  was  such  fun  !  " 

"  I  'm  sure  it  was." 

"  No,  I  mean  when  we  were  examined 
in  the  lectures.  I  bought  the  local  paper, 
you  know,  and  read  it  up,  and  I  got  top 
marks  easily,  and  Miss  Green  wrote  to 
mother  to  say  how  well  I  had  done." 

"It  all  ends  most  satisfactorily,"  I 
observed. 

"Yes,  didn't  it?"  said  little  Miss 
Phyllis. 

Mrs.  Hilary  was  grave  again. 

"  And  you  never  told  your  mother, 
Phyllis?"  she  asked. 


The  House  Opposite  135 

"  N-no,  Cousin  Mary,"  said  Miss 
Phyllis. 

I  rose  and  stood  with  my  back  to  the 
fire.  Little  Miss  Phyllis  took  up  her  sock 
again,  but  a  smile  still  played  about  the 
corners  of  her  mouth. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  I,  looking  up  at  the 
ceiling,    "  what  happened   at  the  door." 

Then,  as  no  one  spoke,  I  added  : 

"  Pooh  !  I  know  what  happened  at  the 
door." 

"  I  'm  not  going  to  tell  you  anything 
more,"  said  Miss  Phyllis. 

"  But  I  should  like  to  hear  it  in  your 
own  —  " 

Miss  Phyllis  was  gone  !  She  had  sud- 
denly risen  and  run  from  the  room  ! 

"  It  did  happen  at  the  door,"  said  I. 

"  Fancy  Phyllis  !  "  mused  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"I  hope,"  said  I,  "that  it  will  be  a 
lesson  to  you." 

"  I  shall  have  to  keep  my  eye  on  her," 
said  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  You  can  't  do  it,"  said  I  in  easy  con- 
fidence. I  had  no  fear  of  little  Miss 
Phyllis  being  done  out  of  her  recreations. 
"Meanwhile,"  I  pursued,  "the  important 
thing  is  this  :  my  parallel  is  obvious  and 
complete." 


136  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  There  's  not  the  least  likeness,"  said 
Mrs.  Hilary  sharply. 

*'As  a  hundred  pounds  are  to  a  shil- 
ling, so  is  the  Grand  Prix  to  the  young 
man  opposite,"  I  observed,  taking  my 
hat,  and  holding  out  my  hand  to  Mrs. 
Hilary. 

"  I  am  very  angry  with  you,"  she  said, 
"  You  Ve  made  the  child  think  there  was 
nothing  wrong  in  it." 

"  Oh  !  nonsense,"  said  I.  "  Look  how 
she  enjoyed  telling  it." 

Then,  not  heeding  Mrs.  Hilary,  I 
launched  into  an  apostrophe. 

"  O  divine  House  Opposite  !  "  I  cried. 
"  Charming  House  Opposite  !  What  is 
a  man's  own  dull  uneventful  home  com- 
pared with  that  Glorious  House  Opposite  ! 
If  only  I  might  dwell  forever  in  the  House 
Opposite  !  " 

"  I  have  n't  the  least  notion  what  you 
mean,"  remarked  Mrs.  Hilary,  stiffly. 
"  I  suppose  it 's  something  silly  —  or 
worse." 

I  looked  at  her  in  some  puzzle. 

"  Have  you  no  longing  for  the  House 
Opposite?  "  I  asked. 

Mrs.  Hilary  looked  at  me.  Her  eyes 
ceased  to  be  absolutely  blank.     She  put 


The  House  Opposite  137 

her  arm  through  Hilary's  and  answered 
gently  — 

"  I  don't  want  the  House  Opposite." 

"  Ah,"  said  I,  giving  my  hat  a  brush, 
**  but  maybe  you  remember  the  House  — 
when  it  was  Opposite?  " 

Mrs.  Hilary,  one  arm  still  in  Hilary's 
gave  me  her  hand. 

She  blushed  and  smiled. 

''Well,"  said  she,  "it  was  your  fault: 
so  I  won't  scold  Phyllis." 

"No,  don't,  my  dear,"  said  Hilary, 
with  a  laugh. 

As  for  me,  I  went  downstairs,  and,  in 
absence  of  mind,  bade  my  cabman  drive 
to  the  House  Opposite.  But  I  have 
never  got  there. 


XVI 

A   QUICK   CHANGE 

"Why  not  go  with  Archie?"  I  asked, 
spreading  out  my  hands. 

*'  It  will  be  dull  enough,  anyhow," 
said  Dolly,  fretfully.  "  Besides,  it 's 
awfully  bourgeois  to  go  to  the  theatre 
with  one's  husband." 

^^  Bourgeois,''  I  observed,  "is  an 
epithet  which  the  riff-raff  apply  to  what 
is  respectable,  and  the  aristocracy  to 
what  is  decent." 

"  But  it 's  not  a  nice  thing  to  be,  all 
the  same,"  said  Dolly,  who  is  impervious 
'to  the  most  penetrating  remark. 

"  You  're  in  no  danger  of  it,"  I  has- 
tened to  assure  her. 

"How  should  you  describe  me,  then?" 
she  asked,  leaning  forward,  with  a  smile. 

"  I  should  describe  you,  Lady  Mickle- 
ham,"  I  replied  discreetly,  "as  being  a 
little  lower  than  the  angels." 

Dolly's  smile  was  almost  a  laugh  as 
she  asked. 


A    Quick  Change  139 

"  How  much  lower,  please,  Mr. 
Carter?" 

"  Just  by  the  depth  of  your  dimples," 
said  I  thoughtlessly. 

Dolly  became  immensely  grave. 

"  1  thought,"  said  she,  "  that  we  never 
mentioned  them  now,  Mr.  Carter.'' 

''Did  we  ever?  "  I  asked  innocently. 

"I  seemed  to  remember  once  :  do  you 
recollect  being  in  very  low  spirits  one 
evening    at   Monte?" 

"  I  remember  being  in  very  low  water 
more  than  one  evening  there." 

"  Yes :  you  told  me  you  were  terribly 
hard-up." 

"There  was  an  election  in  our  divi- 
sion that  year,"  I  remarked,  "  and  I  re- 
mitted 30  per  cent  of  my  rents." 

''You  did  —  to  M.  Blanc,"  said  Dolly. 
"  Oh,  and  you  were  very  dreary  !  You 
said  you  'd  wasted  your  life  and  your 
time  and  your  opportunities." 

"  Oh,  you  must  n't  suppose  I  never 
have  any  proper  feelings,"  said  I  com- 
placently. 

'-  I  think  you  were  hardly  yourself." 

"Do  be  more  charitable." 

"  And  you  said  that  your  only  chance 
was  in  gaining  the  affection  of  —  " 


140         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

*'  Surely  I  was  not  such  an  —  so  fool- 
ish? "  I  implored. 

*'  Yes,    you    were.      You    were    sitting 
close  by  me  —  " 

*' Oh,  then,  it  doesn't  count,"  said  I, 
rallying  a  little. 

"  On    a    bench.      You    remember    the 
bench?" 

'  "  No,  I  don't,"  said  I,  with  a  kind   but 
firm  smile. 

*'  Not  the  bench  ?  " 

''No." 

Dolly  looked  at  me,  then  she  asked  in 
an  insinuating  tone  — 

''  When  did  you  forget  it,  Mr.  Carter  ?  " 

"  The    day    you    were    buried,"    I    re- 
joined. 

"  I    see.      Well,    you    said    then    what 
you  could  n't  possibly  have  meant." 

"  I  dare  say.     I  often  did." 

"  That  they  were  —  " 

"  That  what  were  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  —  the  —  what  we  're   talk- 
ing about." 

<'  What  we  were  —  ?     Oh,  to  be  sure, 
the  — the  blemishes?  " 

"Yes,  the   blemishes.      You  said  they 
were  the  most  —  " 

"Oh,  well,  it  was  2^ fa(;on  de parler^ 


A    Quick  Change  141 

"I  'was  afraid  you  weren't  a  bit  sin- 
cere," said  Dolly  humbly. 

"  Well,  judge  me  by  yourself,"  said  I 
with  a  candid  air. 

"  But  I  said  nothing  !  "  cried  Dolly. 

"  It  was  incomparably  the  most  artistic 
thing  to  do,"  said  I. 

''  I  'm  sometimes  afraid  you  don't  do 
me  justice,  Mr.  Carter,"  remarked  Dolly 
with  some  pathos. 

I  did  not  care  to  enter  upon  that  dis- 
cussion, and  a  pause  followed.  Then 
Dolly,  in  a  timid  manner,  asked  me  — 

"  Do  you  remember  the  dreadful  thing 
that  happened  the  same  evening?  " 

**That  chances  to  remain  in  my  mem- 
ory," I  admitted. 

"  I  've  always  thought  it  kind  of  you 
never  to  speak  of  it,"  said  she. 

"  It  is  best  forgotten,"  said  I,  smiling. 

*'  We  should  have  said  the  same  about 
anybody,"  protested  Dolly. 

"  Certainly.  We  were  only  trying  to 
be  smart,"  said  I. 

"And  it  was  horribly  unjust." 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,  Lady  Mickle- 
ham." 

"  Besides,  I  did  n't  know  anything  about 
him  then.  He  had  only  arrived  that  day, 
you  see." 


142         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  Really  we  were  not  to  blame,"  I  urged. 

"Oh,  but  does  n't  it  seem  funny?  " 

"  A  strange  whirligig,  no  doubt,"  I 
mused. 

There  was  a  pause.  Then  the  faintest 
of  smiles  appeared  on  Dolly's  face. 

''  He  should  n't  have  worn  such 
clothes,"  she  said,  as  though  in  self- 
defence.  "Anybody  would  have  looked 
absurd  in  them." 

"  It  was  all  the  clothes,"  I  agreed. 
"  Besides,  when  a  man  does  n't  know  a 
place,  he  always  moons  about  and 
looks—" 

"Yes.  Rather  awkward,  doesn't  he, 
Mr.  Carter?" 

"  And  the  mere  fact  of  his  looking  at 
you  —  " 

"  At  us,  please." 

"  Is  nothing,  although  we  made  a 
grievance  of  it  at  the  time." 

"That  was  very  absurd  of  you,"  said 
Dolly. 

"  It  was  certainly  unreasonable  of  us," 
said  I. 

"  We  ought  to  have  known  he  was  a 
gentleman." 

"  But  we  scouted  the  idea  of  it," 
said  I. 


A   Quick  Change  143 

"  It  was  a  most  curious  mistake  to 
make,"  said  Dolly. 

"  Oh,  well,  it 's  all  put  right  now," 
said  I. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Carter,  do  you  remember 
mamma's  face  when  we  described  him?  " 

"  That  was  a  terrible  moment,"  said 
I,  with  a  shudder. 

"  I  said  he  was  —  ugly,"  whispered 
Dolly. 

"And  I  said  —  something  worse,"  mur- 
mured 1. 

"  And  mamma  knew  at  once  from  our 
description  that  it  was  —  " 

"  She  saw  it  in  a  minute,"  said  I. 

"And  then  you  went  away." 

"  Well,  I  rather  suppose  I  did,"  said  I. 

"  Mamma  is  just  a  litde  like  the 
Dowager  sometimes,"  said  Dolly. 

"There  is  a  touch  now  and  then,"  I 
conceded. 

"  And  when  I  was  introduced  to  him 
the  next  day  I  absolutely  blushed." 

"  I  don't  altogether  wonder  at  that,"  I 
observed. 

"  But  it  was  n't  as  if  he  'd  heard  what 
we  were  saying." 

"  No ;  but  he  'd  seen  what  we  were 
doing." 


144         ^/^^  Dolly  Dialogues 

"Well,  what  were  we  doing?"  cried 
Dolly  defiantly. 

**  Conversing  confidentially,"  said  I. 

"  And  a  week  later  you  went  home  !  " 

"Just  one  week  later,"  said  I. 

There  was  a  long  pause. 

"Well,  you  '11  take  me  to  the  theatre?" 
asked  Dolly,  with  something  which,  if  I 
were  so  disposed,  I  might  consider  a 
sigh. 

"  I  've  seen  the  piece  twice,"  said  I. 

"  How  tiresome  of  you  !  You  've  seen 
everything  twice." 

"I  've  seen  some  things  much  oftener," 
I  observed. 

"  I  '11  get  a  nice  girl  for  you  to  talk  to, 
and  I  '11  have  a  young  man." 

"  I  don't  want  my  girl  to  be  too  nice^' 
I  observed. 

"She  shall  be  pretty,"  said  Dolly,  gen- 
erously. 

"I  don't  mind  if  I  do  come  with  you," 
said  I.     "What  becomes  of  Archie?" 

"  He  's  going  to  take  his  mother  and 
sisters  to  the  Albert  Hall." 

My  face  brightened. 

"I  am  unreasonable,"  I  admitted. 

"  Sometimes  you  are,"  said  Dolly. 

"  I    have    much    to    be    thankful     for. 


A   Quick  Change  145 

Have  you  ever  observed  a  small  boy  eat 
a  penny  ice?  " 

"  Of  course  I  have,"  said  Dolly. 

"  What  does  he  do  when  he  's  finished 
it?" 

**  Stops,  I  suppose." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  said  I.  "  He  licks 
the  glass." 

"  Yes,  he  does,"  said  Dolly,  meditatively. 

"  It 's  not  so  bad  —  licking  the  glass," 
said  I. 

Dolly  stood  opposite  me,  smiling.  At 
this  moment  Archie  entered.  He  had 
been  working  at  his  lathe.  He  is  very 
fond  of  making  things  which  he  does  n't 
want,  and  then  giving  them  to  people 
who  have  no  use  for  them. 

"How  are  you,  old  chap?"  he  be- 
gan. "  I  've  just  finished  an  uncommon 
pretty  —  " 

He  stopped,  paralyzed  by  a  cry  from 
Dolly  — 

"Archie,  what  in  the  world  are  you 
wearing?  " 

I  turned  a  startled  gaze  upon  Archie. 

"  It 's  just  an  old  suit  I  routed  out," 
said  he  apologetically. 

I  looked  at  Dolly ;  her  eyes  were  close 
shut,  and  she  gasped  — 
10 


146         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  My  dear,  dear  boy,  go  and  change  it !  '* 

"  I  don't  see  why  it 's  not  —  " 

"Go  and  change  it,  if  you  love  me," 
besought  Dolly. 

"  Oh,  all  right." 

"You  look  hideous  in  it,"  she  said, 
her  eyes  still  shut. 

Archie,  who  is  very  docile,  withdrew. 
A  guilty  silence  reigned  for  some  mo- 
ments.    Then  Dolly  opened  her  eyes. 

"  It  was  the  suit,"  she  said,  with  a 
shudder.  "  Oh,  how  it  all  came  back  to 
me!" 

"  I  could  wish,"  I  observed,  taking  my 
hat,  "  that  it  would  all  come  back  to  me." 

"  I  wonder  if  you  mean  that !  " 

"  As  much  as  I  ever  did,"  said  I, 
earnestly. 

"And  that  is  —  ?" 

"  Quite  enough." 

"  How  tiresome  you  are  !  "  she  said, 
turning  away  with  a  smile. 

Outside  I  met  Archie  in  another  suit. 

"A  quick  change,  eh,  my  boy?"  said 
he. 

"  It  took  just  a  week,"  I  remarked 
absently. 

Archie  stared. 


XVII 
A   SLIGHT   MISTAKE 

"  I  don't  ask  you  for  more  than  a 
guinea,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary,  with  a  parade 
of  forbearance. 

"It  would  be  the  same,"  I  replied 
politely,  ''if  you  asked  me  for  a  thou- 
sand ;  "  with  which  I  handed  her  half-a- 
crown.  She  held  it  in  her  open  hand, 
regarding  it  scornfully. 

"Yes,"  I  continued,  taking  a  seat,  "I 
feel  that  pecuniary  gifts  —  " 

"  Half-a-crown  !  " 

"  Are  a  poor  substitute  for  personal 
service.  May  not  I  accompany  you  to 
the   ceremony?" 

"  I  dare  say  you  spent  as  much  as  this 
on  wine  with  your  lunch  !  " 

"  I  was  in  a  mad  mood  to-day,"  I 
answered  apologetically.  "  What  are 
they  taught  at  the  school?" 

"  Above  all,  to  be  good  girls,"  said 
Mrs.  Hilary,  earnestly.  "  What  are  you 
sneering  at,  Mr.  Carter?" 


148  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

'•'  Nothing,"  said  I  hastily,  and  I  added 
with  a  sigh,  "  I  suppose  it's  all  right." 

"  I    should    like,"    said     Mrs.     Hilar}^ 

meditatively,  "  if  I  had   not  other  duties, 

to  dedicate  my  life  to  the  service  of  girls." 

"  I  should  think  twice  about  that,  if  I 

were  you,"  said  I,  shaking  my  head. 

"■  By  the  way,  Mr.  Carter,  I  don't 
know  if  I  've  ever  spoken  unkindly  of 
Lady  Mickleham.  I  hope  not." 
"  Hope,"  said  I,  "  is  not  yet  taxed." 
"  If  I  have,  I  'm  very  sorry.  She 's 
been  most  kind  in  undertaking  to  give 
away  the  prizes  to-day.  There  must  be 
some  good  in  her." 

"  Oh,  don't  be  hasty  !  "   I  implored. 
"I  always  wanted  to  think  well  of  her." 
"  Ah  !     Now  I  never  did." 
"  And  Lord  Mickleham  is  coming,  too. 
He  '11  be  most  useful." 

"  That  settles  it,"  I  exclaimed.  "  I 
may  not  be  an  earl,  but  I  have  a  perfect 
right  to  be  useful.     I  '11  go  too." 

"  I  wonder  if  you  '11  behave  properly," 
said  Mrs.  Hilary  doubtfully. 

I  held  out  a  half-sovereign,  three  half- 
crowns,  and  a  shilling. 

*'  Oh,  well,  you  may  come,  since  Hilary 
can't,"  said  Mrs  Hilary. 


A   Slight  Mistake  149 

"  You  mean  he  won't,"  I  observed. 

"  He  has  ahvays  been  prevented 
hitherto,"    said    she,    with    dignity. 

So  I  went,  and  it  proved  a  most  agree- 
able expedition.  There  were  200  girls 
in  blue  frocks  and  white  aprons  (the 
girl  three  from  the  end  of  the  fifth  row 
was  decidedly  pretty)  —  a  nice  lot  of 
prize  books — the  Micklehams  (Dolly  in 
demure  black),  ourselves,  and  the  ma- 
tron. All  went  well.  Dolly  gave  away 
the  prizes ;  Mrs.  Hilary  and  Archie 
made  little  speeches.  Then  the  matron 
came  to  me.  I  was  sitting  modestly  at 
the  back  of  the  platform,  a  little  dis- 
tance behind  the  others. 

"  Mr.  Musgrave,"  said  the  matron  to 
me,  "  we  're  so  glad  to  see  you  here  at 
last.     Won't  you  say  a  few  words?  " 

"It  would  be  a  privilege,"  I  responded 
cordially,  "  but  unhappily  I  have  a  sore 
throat." 

The  matron  (who  was  a  most  respect- 
able woman)  said,  ''  Dear,  dear  ! '"  but 
did  not  press  the  point.  Evidently, 
however,  she  liked  me,  for  when  we 
went  to  have  a  cup  of  tea,  she  got  me 
in  a  corner  and  began  to  tell  me  all 
about  the  work.  It  was  extremely  inter- 
esting.    Then  the  matron  observed, 


150         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

*'  And  what  an  angel  Mrs.  Musgrave 
is !" 

"Well,  I  should  hardly  call  her  that," 
said  I,  with  a  smile. 

*'0h,  you  must  n't  depreciate  her  —  you, 
of  all  men  !  "  cried  the  matron,  with  a 
somewhat  ponderous  archness.  "  Really 
I  envy  you  her  constant  society." 

"  I  assure  you,"  said  I,  '*  I  see  very 
little  of  her." 

"I  beg  your  pardon?  " 

"  I  only  go  to  the  house  about  once 
a  fortnight  —  Oh,  it 's  not  my  fault.  She 
won't  have  me  there  oftener." 

*' What  do  you  mean?  I  beg  your 
pardon.  Perhaps  I  've  touched  on  a 
painful  —  " 

"  Not  at  all,  not  at  all,"  said  I  suavely. 
"  It  is  very  natural.  I  am  neither  young 
nor  handsome,  Mrs.  Wiggins.  I  am  not 
complaining." 

The  matron  gazed  at  me. 

"  Only  seeing  her  here,"  I  pursued, 
"you  have  no  idea  of  what  she  is  at 
home.  She  has  chosen  to  forbid  me  to 
come  to  her  house  —  " 

"  Her  house?  " 

"  It  happens  to  be  more  hers  than 
mine,"  I  explained.     "To    forbid  me,  I 


A  Slight  Mistake  1 5  i 

say,  more  than  once  to  come  to  her 
house.    No  doubt  she  had  her  reasons." 

"  Nothing  could  justify  it,"  said  the 
matron,  directing  a  wondering  glance  at 
Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  Do  not  let  us  blame  her,"  said  I. 
"  It  is  just  an  unfortunate  accident. 
She  is  not  as  fond  of  me  as  I  could 
wish,  Mrs.  Wiggins ;  and  she  is  a  great 
deal  fonder  than  I  could  wish  of — " 

I  broke  off.  Mrs.  Hilary  was  walk- 
ing towards  us.  I  think  she  was  pleased 
to  see  me  getting  on  so  well  with  the 
matron,  for  she  was  smiling  pleasantly. 
The  matron  wore  a  bewildered  expression. 

"I  suppose,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary,  *Uhat 
you  '11  drive  back  with  the  Micklehams?" 

"Unless  you  want  me,"  said  I,  keep- 
ing a  watchful  eye  on  the  matron. 

"Oh,  I  don't  want  you,"  said  Mrs. 
Hilary  lightly. 

"You  won't  be  alone  this  evening?"  I 
asked  anxiously. 

Mrs.  Hilary  stared  a  little. 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  she  said.  "  We  shall  have 
our  usual  party." 

"  May  I  come  one  day  next  week?  "  I 
asked  humbly. 

Mrs.  Hilary  thought  for  a  moment. 


152  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

'^  I 'm  so  busy  next  week  —  come  the 
week  after,"  said  she,  giving  me  -her 
hand. 

*'  That 's  very  unkind,"  said  I. 

"Nonsense!"  said  Mrs.  Hilary,  and 
she  added,  "  Mind  you  let  me  know  when 
you  're  coming." 

"  I  won't  surprise  you,"  I  assured  her, 
with  a  covert  glance  at  the  matron. 

The  excellent  woman  was  quite  red  in 
the  face,  and  could  gasp  out  nothing  but 
*^Good-by,"  as  Mrs.  Hilary  affectionately 
pressed  her  hand. 

At  this  moment  Dolly  came  up.  She 
was  alone. 

"Where  's  Archie?  "  I  asked. 

"  He  's  run  away  ;  he  's  got  to  meet 
somebody.  I  knew  you  'd  see  me  home. 
Mrs.  Hilary  did  n't  want  you,  of  course?  " 

"Of  course  not,"  said  I  plaintively. 

"  Besides,  you  'd  rather  come  with  me, 
would  n't  you  ?  "  pursued  Dolly,  and  she 
added  pleasantly  to  the  matron,  "  Mrs. 
Hilary  's  so  down  on  him,  you  know." 

"  I  'd  much  rather  come  with  you," 
said  I. 

"  We  '11  have  a  cosy  drive  all  to  our- 
selves," said  Dolly,  "  without  husbands 
or  wives   or   anything   horrid.     Is  n't    it 


A  Slight  Mistake  153 

nice  to  get  rid  of  one  's  husband  some- 
times, Mrs.  Wiggins?" 

"  I  have  the  misfortune  to  be  a  widow, 
Lady  Mickleham,"  said  Mrs.  Wiggins. 

Dolly's  eye  rested  upon  her  with  an 
interested  expression.  I  knew  that  she 
was  about  to  ask  Mrs.  Wiggins  whether 
she  liked  the  condition  of  life,  and  I 
interposed  hastily,  with  a  sigh. 

"  But  yoit  can  look  back  on  a  happy 
marriage,  Mrs.  Wiggins?" 

"I  did  my  best  to  make  it  so,"  said 
she  stiffly. 

"You  're  right,"  said  I.  "  Even  in  the 
face  of  unkindness  we  should  strive  —  " 

"  My  husband  's  not  unkind,"  said 
DcUy. 

"  I  didn't  mean  your  husband,"  said  I. 

"  What  your  poor  wife  would  do  if  she 
cared  a  button  for  you,  I  don't  know," 
observed  Dolly. 

"  If  1  had  a  wife  who  cared  for  me,  I 
should  be  a  better  man,"  said  I  solemnly. 

"  But  you  'd  probably  be  very  dull," 
said  Dolly.  "  And  you  would  n't  be  al- 
lowed to  drive  with  me." 

"  Perhaps  it 's  all  for  the  best,"  said  I, 
brightening  up.  "  Good-hy,  Mrs.  Wig- 
gins." 


154  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

Dolly  walked  on.  Mrs.  Wiggins  held 
my  hand  for  a  moment. 

"Young  man,"  said  she  sternly,  "are 
you  sure  it 's  not  your  own  fault?  " 

"  I  'm  not  at  all  sure,  Mrs.  Wiggins," 
said  I.  "  But  don't  be  distressed  about 
it.  It 's  of  no  consequence.  I  don't  let 
it  make  me  unhappy.  Good-by ;  so 
many  thanks.  Charming  girls  you  have 
here  —  especially  that  one  in  the  fifth  —  I 
mean,  charming,  all  of  them.     Good-by." 

I  hastened  to  the  carriage.  Mrs. 
Wiggins  stood  and  watched.  I  got  in 
and  sat  down  by  Dolly. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Wiggins,"  said  Dolly,  dim- 
pling, "  don't  tell  Mrs.  Hilary  that  Archie 
was  n't  with  us,  or  we  shall  get  into 
trouble."  And  she  added  to  me,  "Are 
you  all  right?  " 

**  Rather  !  "  said  I  appreciatively  ;  and 
we  drove  off,  leaving  Mrs.  Wiggins  on  the 
door- step. 

A  fortnight  later  I  went  to  call  on  Mrs. 
Hilary.  After  some  conversation  she 
remarked  : 

"  I  'm  going  to  the  school  again  to- 
morrow." 

"Really!  "  said  I. 

"  And  I  'm  so  delighted  —  I  've  per- 
suaded Hilary  to  come." 


A  Slight  Mistake  155 

She  paused,  and  then  added, 

"You  really  seemed  interested  last 
time." 

"  Oh,  I  was." 

"  Would  you  like  to  come  again  to- 
morrow? " 

"  No,  I  think  not,  thanks,"  said  I 
carelessly. 

"  That 's  just  like  you  !  "  she  said  se- 
verely. '•  You  never  do  any  real  good, 
because  you  never  stick  to  anything." 

<' There  are  some  things  one  can't 
stick  to,"  said  I. 

*'  Oh,  nonsense  !  "  said  Mrs.  Hilary. 

But  there  are  —  and  I  did  n't  go. 


XVIII 

THE    OTHER   LADV 

By  the  merest  chance,"  I  observed 
meditatively,  '*  I  attended  a  reception 
last  night." 

"  I  went  to  three,"  said  Lady  Mickle- 
ham,  selecting  a  sardine-sandwich  with 
care. 

"  I  might  not  have  gone,"  I  mused.  "  I 
might  easily  not  have  gone." 

"  I  can't  see  what  difference  it  would 
make  if  you  had  n't,"  said  she. 

**  I  thought  three  times  about  going. 
It's  a  curious  world." 

"What  happened?  You  may  smoke, 
you  know." 

"  1  fell  in  love,"  said  I,  lighting  a 
cigarette. 

Lady  Mickleham  placed  her  feet  on 
the  fender  —  it  was  a  chilly  afternoon  — 
and  turned  her  face  to  me,  shielding 
it  from  the  fire  with  her  handkerchief. 

"  Men  of  your  age,"  she  remarked, 
"  have  no  business  to  be  thinking  of  such 
things." 


The  Other  Lady  157 

"  I  was  not  thinking  of  it,"  said  I. 
"  I  was  thinking  of  going  home.  Then 
I  was  introduced  to  her." 

''And  you  stayed  a  Httle,  I  suppose?" 

*'  I  stayed  two  hours  —  or  two  minutes. 
I  forgot  which  ;  "  and  I  added,  nodding 
my  head  at  Lady  Mickleham,  ''  There 
was  something  irresistible  about  me  last 
night." 

Lady  Mickleham  laughed. 

"  You  seem  very  pleased  with  your- 
self," she  said,  reaching  for  a  fan  to  re- 
place the  handkerchief. 

*'  Yes,  take  care  of  your  complexion," 
said  I  approvingly.  "  She  has  a  lovely 
complexion." 

Lady  Mickleham  laid  down  the  fan. 

*'  I  am  very  pleased  with  myself," 
I  continued.  "  She  was  delighted  with 
me." 

"  I  suppose  you  talked  nonsense  to 
her." 

"  I  have  not  the  least  idea  what  I 
talked  to  her.  It  was  quite  immaterial. 
The  language  of  the  eyes  —  " 

*'  Oh,  you  might  be  a  boy  !  " 

''  I  was,"  said  I,  nodding  again. 

There  was  a  long  silence.  Dolly  looked 
at  me ;  I  looked  at  the  fire.     I  did  not. 


158         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

however,  see  the  fire.  I  saw  something 
quite  different. 

"  She  Uked  me  very  much,"  I  ob- 
served, stretching  my  hands  out  towards 
the  blaze. 

"You  absurd  old  man!"  said  Dolly. 
"  Was  she  very  charming?  " 

*'She  was  perfect." 

"How?     Clever?" 

I  waved  my  hand  impatiently. 

"  Pretty,  Mr.  Carter?" 

"  Why,  of  course ;  the  prettiest  crea- 
ture I  ever  —  But  that  goes  without  say- 
ing." 

"  It  would  have  gone  better  without  say- 
ing," remarked  Dolly.    "  Considering  —  " 

To  have  asked  "Considering  what?" 
would  have  been  the  acme  of  bad  taste. 
I  merely  smiled,  and  waved  my  hand 
again. 

"You're  quite  serious  about  it, 'are  n't 
you?  "   said  Dolly. 

"  I  should  think  I  was,"  said  I  indig- 
nantly. "  Not  to  be  serious  in  such  a 
matter  is  to  waste  it  utterly. 

**  I  '11  come  to  the  wedding,"  said 
Dolly. 

"There  won't  be  a  wedding,"  said  I. 
"There  are  Reasons." 


The  Other  Lady  159 

"  Oh  !  You  're  very  unlucky,  Mr. 
Carter." 

"  That,"  I  observed,  "  is  as  it  may  be,* 
Lady  Mickleham." 

"Were  the  Reasons  at  the  reception?" 

"  They  were.     It  made  no  difference." 

"It's  very  curious,"  remarked  Dolly 
with  a  compassionate  air,  "  that  you 
always  manage  to  admire  people  whom 
somebody  else  has  married." 

"It  would  be  very  curious,"  I  rejoined, 
"  if  somebody  had  not  married  the  people 
whom  I  admire.  Last  night,  though,  I 
made  nothing  of  his  sudden  removal ;  my 
fancy  rioted  in  accidental  deaths  for  him." 

"  He  won't  die,"  said  Dolly. 

"I  hate  that  sort  of  superstition,"  said 
I  irritably.  "  He  's  just  as  likely  to  die 
as  any  other  man  is." 

"  He  certainly  won't  die,"  said  Dolly. 

"  Well,  I  know  he  won't.  Do  let  it 
alone,"  said  I,  much  exasperated.  It  was 
probably  only  kindness,  but  Dolly  sud- 
denly turned  her  eyes  away  from  me  and 
fixed  them  on  the  fire ;  she  took  the  fan 
up  again  and  twirled  it  in  her  hand ;  a 
queer  little  smile  bent  her  lips. 

"  I  hope  the  poor  man  won't  die,"  said 
Dolly  in  a  low  voice. 


i6o         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  If  he  had  died  last  night  !  "  I  cried 
longingly.  Then,  with  a  regretful  shrug 
of  my  shoulders,  I  added,  "  Let  him  live 
now  to  the  crack  of  doom  !  " 

Somehow  this  restored  my  good  humor. 
I  rose  and  stood  with  my  back  to  the  fire, 
stretching  myself  and  sighing  luxuriously. 
Dolly  leant  back  in  her  chair  and  laughed 
at  me. 

"  Do  you  expect  to  be  forgiven?  "  she 
asked. 

"  No,  no,"  said  I ;  "  I  had  too  good  an 
excuse." 

*'  I  wish  I  'd  been  there  —  at  the  recep- 
tion, I  mean." 

^'  I  'm  extremely  glad  you  were  n't.  Lady 
Mickleham.  As  it  was,  I  forgot  all  my 
troubles." 

Dolly  is  not  resentful ;  she  did  not 
mind  the  implied  description.  She  leant 
back,  smiling  still.  I  sighed  again,  smiled 
at  Dolly,  and  took  my  hat.  Then  I 
turned  to  the  mirror  over  the  mantel- 
piece, arranged  my  necktie,  and  gave  my 
hair  a  touch. 

"No  one,"  I  observed,  "can  afford  to 
neglect  the  niceties  of  the  toilet.  Those 
dainty  little  curls  on  the  forehead  —  " 

"  You  've  had  none  there  for  ten  years," 
cried  Lady  Mickleham. 


The  Other  Lady  i6i 

"  I  did  not  mean  my  forehead,"  said  I. 

Sighing  once  again,  I  held  out  my  hand 
to  Dolly. 

"Are  you  doing  anything  this  even- 
ing? "  she  asked. 

"  That  depends  on  what  I  'm  asked  to 
do,"  said  I  cautiously. 

"  Well,  Archie  's  going  to  be  at  the 
House,  and  I  thought  you  might  take 
me  to  the  Phaetons'  party.  It 's  quite  a 
long  drive  —  a  horribly  long  drive,  Mr. 
Carter." 

I  stood  for  a  moment  considering  this 
proposal. 

"  I  don't  think,-"  said  I,  ''  that  it  would 
be  proper." 

"  Why,  Archie  suggested  it !  You  're 
making  an  excuse.  You  know  you  are  !  " 
and  Lady  Mickleham  looked  very  indig- 
nant. "As  if,"  she  added  scornfully, 
"  you  cared  about  what  was  proper  !  " 

I  dropped  into  a  chair,  and  said,  in  a 
confidential  tone,  "  I  don't  care  a  pin. 
It  was  a  mere  excuse.  I  don't  want  to 
come." 

"  You  're  very  rude,  indeed.  Many 
women  would  never  speak  to  you  again." 

"They  would,"  said  I,  "all  do  just  as 
you  will." 


1 62  TJie  Dolly  Dialogues 

"And  what's  that,  Mr.  Carter?" 

"Ask  me  again  on  the  first  opportu- 
nity." 

"Why  won't  you  come?"  said  Dolly, 
waiving  this  question. 

I  bent  forward,  holding  my  hat  in  my 
left  hand,  and  sawing  the  air  with  my 
right  forefinger. 

"You  fail  to  allow,"  said  I  impressively, 
"  for  the  rejuvenescence  which  recent 
events  have  produced  in  me.  If  I  came 
with  you  this  evening  I  should  be  quite 
capable  —  "I  paused. 

"  Of  anything  dreadful?  "  asked  Dolly. 

"  Of  paying  you  pronounced  atten- 
tions," said  I  gravely. 

"That,"  said  Dolly  with  equal  gravity, 
"would  be  very  regrettable.  It  would  be 
unjust  to  me  — and  very  insulting  to  her, 
Mr.  Carter." 

"  It  would  be  the  finest  testimonial  to 
her,"  I  cried. 

"  And  you  '11  spend  the  evening  think- 
ing of  her?  "  asked  Dolly. 

"  I  shall  get  through  the  evening,"  said 
I,  "  in  the  best  way  I  can."  And  I 
smiled  contentedly. 

"  What 's  her  husband?"  asked  Dolly 
suddenly. 


The  Other  Lady  163 

"  Her  husband,"  I  rejoined,  "  is  noth- 
ing at  all." 

Dolly,  receiving  this  answer,  looked  at 
me  with  a  pathetic  air. 

"  It 's  not  quite  fair,"  she  observed. 
"  Do  you  know  what  I  'm  thinking  about, 
Mr.  Carter?" 

"  Certainly  I  do.  Lady  Mickleham. 
You  are  thinking  that  you  would  like  to 
meet  me  for  the  first  time." 

"  Not  at  all.  I  was  thinking  that  it 
would  be  amusing  if  you  met  me  for  the 
first  time." 

I  said  nothing.  Dolly  rose  and  walked 
to  the  window.  She  swung  the  tassel  of 
the  blind  and  it  bumped  against  the  win- 
dow. The  failing  sun  caught  her  ruddy 
brown  hair.  There  were  curls  on  her 
forehead,  too. 

"  It 's  a  grand  world,"  said  I.  "And, 
after  all,  one  can  grow  old  very 
gradually." 

"You're  not  really  old,"  said  Dolly, 
with  the  fleetest  glance  at  me.  A  glance 
should  not  be  over-long. 

"  Gradually  and  disgracefully,"  I 
murmured. 

"  If  you  met  me  for  the  first  time  —  " 
said  Dolly,  swinging  the  tassel. 


164         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

*'  By  Heaven,  it  should  be  the  last !  "  I 
cried,  and  I  rose  to  my  feet. 

Dolly  let  the  tassel  go,  and  made  me  a 
very  pretty  curtsey. 

"  I  am  going  to  another  party  to- 
night," said  I,  nodding  my  head  signifi- 
cantly. 

*'  Ah  !  "  said  Dolly. 

"  And  I  shall  again,"  I  pursued, 
*'  spend  my  time  with  the  prettiest 
woman  in  the  room." 

''Shall  you?  "  asked  Dolly,  smiling. 

"  I  am  a  very  fortunate  fellow,"  I 
observed.  "  And  as  for  Mrs.  Hilary, 
she  may  say  what  she  likes." 

"  Oh,  does  Mrs.  Hilary  know  the  — 
Other  Lady?" 

I  walked  towards  the  door. 

"  There  is,"  said  I,  laying  my  hand  on 
the  door,  "  no  Other  Lady." 

"  I  shall  get  there  about  eleven,"  said 
Dolly. 


XIX 

WHAT  MIGHT  HAVE   BEEN 

Unfortunately  it  was  Sunday ;  there- 
fore the  gardeners  could  not  be  ordered 
to  shift  the  long  row  of  flower-pots  from 
the  side  of  the  terrace  next  the  house, 
where  Dolly  had  ordered  them  to  be 
put,  to  the  side  remote  from  the  house, 
where  Dolly  now  wished  them  to  stand. 
Yet  Dolly  could  not  think  of  living  with 
the  pots  where  they  were  till  Monday. 
It  would  kill  her,  she  said.  So  Archie 
left  the  cool  shade  of  the  great  trees, 
where  Dolly  sat  doing  nothing,  and 
Nellie  Phaeton  sat  splicing  the  gig  whip, 
and  I  lay  in  a  deck-chair,  with  some- 
thing iced  beside  me.  Outside  the  sun 
was  broiling  hot,  and  poor  Archie 
mopped  his  brow  at  every  weary  journey 
across  the  broad  terrace. 

"  It 's  a  burnin'  shame,  Dolly,"  said 
Miss  Phaeton.  "  I  would  n't  do  it  if  I 
were  him." 


1 66  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

'*  Oh,  yes,  you  would,  dear,"  said 
Dolly.  "  The  pots  looked  atrocious  on 
that  side." 

I  took  a  long  sip  from  my  glass,  and 
observed  in  a  meditative  tone  : 

"  There,  but  for  the  grace  of  woman, 
goes  Samuel  Travers  Carter." 

Dolly's  lazy  lids  half  lifted.  Miss 
Phaeton  mumbled  (her  mouth  was  full 
of  twine)  : 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

^^  Nemo  onuiibiis  horis  sapit^''  said  I 
apologetically. 

"  I  don't  know  what  that  means 
either." 

"  Nemo  —  everybody,"  I  translated, 
"  sapit —  has  been  in  love  —  omnibus  — 
once  — horis  —  at  least." 

"  Oh,  and  you  mean  she  would  n't 
have  you?  "  asked  Nellie,  with  blunt 
directness. 

"  Not  quite  that,"  said  I.     "  They  —  " 

"They?"  murmured  Dolly,  with  half- 
lifted  lids. 

'*  They,''  I  pursued,  "  regretfully  recog- 
nized my  impossibility.  Hence  I  am  not 
carrying  pots  across  a  broad  terrace  under 
a  hot  sun." 

"  Why  did  they  think  you  impossible?  " 


W/ial  Might  Have  Been      167 

asked  Miss  Phaeton,  who  takes  much 
interest  in  this  sort  of  question. 

"  A  variety  of  reasons  :  for  one  I  was 
too  clever,  for  another  too  stupid ;  for 
others  too  good  —  or  too  bad;  too  seri- 
ous —  or  too  frivolous  ;   too  poor  or  —  " 

"  Well,  no  one  objected  to  your  money, 
I  suppose?"  interrupted  Nellie. 

"  Pardon  me.  I  was  about  to  say  *  or 
not  rich  enough.'  " 

"But  that's  the  same  thing." 

"The  antithesis  is  certainly  imperfect," 
I  admitted. 

"  Mr.  Gay,"  said  Nellie,  introducing 
the  name  with  some  timidity,  "  you  know 
who  I  mean?  —  the  poet — once  said  to 
me  that  man  was  essentially  imperfect 
until  he  was  married." 

"  It  is  true,"  I  agreed.  "  And  woman 
until  she  is  dead." 

"  I  don't  think  he  meant  it  quite  in 
that  sense,"  said  Nellie,  rather  puzzled. 

"  I  don't  think  he  meant  it  in  any 
sense,"  murmured  Dolly,  a  little  un- 
kindly. 

We  might  have  gone  on  talking  in 
this  idle  way  for  ever  so  long  had  not 
Archie  at  this  point  dropped  a  large 
flower-pot  and  smashed  it   to  bits.     He 


1 68  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

stood  looking  at  the  bits  for  a  moment, 
and  then  came  towards  us  and  sank  into 
a  chair. 

"  I  'm  off !  "  he  announced. 

"  And  half  are  on  one  side,  and  half  on 
the  other,"  said  Dolly,  regretfully. 

A  sudden  impulse  seized  me.  I  got 
up,  put  on  my  straw  hat,  took  off  my  coat, 
walked  out  into  the  sun,  and  began  to 
move  flower-pots  across  the  broad  ter- 
race. I  heard  a  laugh  from  Archie,  a 
little  cry  from  Dolly,  and  from  Nellie 
Phaeton,  "  Goodness,  what 's  he  doin' 
that  for?"  I  was  not  turned  from  my 
purpose.  The  luncheon  bell  rang.  Miss 
Phaeton,  whip  and  twine  in  hand,  walked 
into  the  house.  Archie  followed  her,  say- 
ing as  he  passed  that  he  hoped  I  should  n't 
find  it  warm.  I  went  on  shifting  the 
flower-pots.  They  were  very  heavy.  I 
broke  two,  but  I  went  on.  Presently 
Dolly  put  up  her  parasol  and  came  out 
from  the  shade  to  watch  me.  She  stood 
there  for  a  moment  or  two.  Then  she 
said  : 

"  Well,  do  you  think  you  'd  like  it,  Mr. 
Carter?" 

"  Wait  till  I  've  finished,"  said  I,  wav- 
ing my  hand. 


IV/m^  Might  Have  Been      i/l 

Another  ten  minutes  saw  the  end  of 
my  task.  Panting  and  hot  I  sought  the 
shade,  and  flung  myself  on  to  my  deck- 
chair  again.      I  also  lit  a  cigarette. 

"  I  think  they  looked  better  on  the  other 
side,  after  all,"  said  Dolly  meditatively. 

"  Of  course  you  do,"  said  I  urbanely. 
"You  needn't  tell  me  that." 

'*  Perhaps  you  'd  like  to  move  them 
back,"  she  suggested. 

"  No,"  said  I.  "  I  've  done  enough  to 
create  the  impression." 

"  And  how  did  you  like  it?  " 

"  It  was,"  said  I,  "  in  its  way  a  pleasant 
enough  illusion."  And  I  shrugged  my 
shoulders,  and  blew  a  ring  of  smoke. 

To  my  very  considerable  gratification, 
Dolly's  tone  manifested  some  annoyance 
as  she  asked  : 

''  Why  do  you  say  '■  in  its  way  '  ?  " 

"  Because,  in  spite  of  the  momentary 
pleasure  I  gained  from  feeling  myself  a 
married  man,  I  could  not  banish  the  idea 
that  we  should  not  permanently  suit  one 
another." 

"  Oh,  you  thought  that  ?  "  said  Dolly, 
smiling  again. 

"I  must  confess  it,"  said  I.  "The 
fault,  I  know,  would  be  mine." 


1 68  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"  I  'm  sure  of  that,"  said   Dolly. 

"  But  the  fact  is  that  I  can't  exist  in 
too  high  altitudes.  The  rarefaction  of 
the  moral  atmosphere  —  " 

'•  Please  don't  use  all  those  long 
words." 

'•  Well,  then,  to  put  it  plainly,"  said  I, 
with  a  pleasant  smile,  "  I  felt  all  the 
time  that  Mrs.  Hilary  would  be  too  good 
for  me." 

It  is  not  very  often  that  it  falls  to  my 
humble  lot  to  startle  Lady  Mickleham 
out  of  her  composure.  But  at  this  point 
she  sat  up  quite  straight  in  her  chair ; 
her  cheek  flushed,  and  her  eyelids  ceased 
to  droop  in  indolent  insoicciance. 

"Mrs.  Hilary!"  she  said.  '^  What 
has  Mrs.  Hilary — ?" 

**  I  really  thought  you  understood," 
said  I,  "  the  object  of  my  experiment." 

Dolly  glanced  at  me.  I  believe  that 
my  expression  was  absolutely  innocent 
—  and  I  am,  of  course,  sure  that  hers 
expressed  mere  surprise. 

"I  thought,"  she  said,  after  a  pause, 
"  that  you  were  thinking  of  Nellie  Phae  - 
ton." 

"Oh,  I  see,"  cried  I,  smiling.  "A 
natural  mistake,  to  be  sure  !  " 


W/ml  Might  Have  Been      171 

"She  thought  so  too,"  pursued  Dolly, 
biting  her  lip. 

"Did  she  though?" 

"  And  I  'm  sure  she  'd  be  quite  an- 
noyed if  she  thought  you  were  thinking 
of  Mrs.  Hilary." 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,"  I  observed, 
"  she  did  n't  understand  what  I  was 
doing  at  all." 

Dolly  leant  back.  The  relics  of  a 
frown  still  dwelt  on  her  brow ;  pres- 
ently, however,  she  began  to  swing  her 
hat  on  her  forefinger,  and  she  threw 
a  look  at  me.  I  immediately  looked 
up  towards  the  branches  above  my 
head. 

"We  might  as  well  go  into  lunch," 
said  Dolly. 

"  By  all  means,"  I  acquiesced,  with 
alacrity. 

We  went  out  into  the  sunshine,  and 
came  where  the  pots  were.  Suddenly 
Dolly  said  : 

"  Go  back  and  sit  down  again,  Mr. 
Carter." 

"  I  want  my  lunch,"  I  ventured  to 
observe. 

"  Do  as  I  tell  you,"  said  Dolly,  stamp- 
ing her  foot :  whereat,  much  intimidated, 


1/2  Thf".  Dolly  Dialogues 

I  we^.l  back,  and  stretched  myself  once 
more  on  the  deck-chair. 

Dolly  approached  a  flower-pot.  She 
stooped  down,  exerted  her  strength, 
lifted  it,  and  carried  it,  not  without  effort, 
across  the  terrace.  Again  she  did  the 
like.  I  sat  smoking  and  watching.  She 
lifted  a  third  pot,  but  dropped  it  half  way. 
Then,  dusting  her  hands  against  one 
another,  she  came  back  slowly  into  the 
shade  and  sat  down.  I  made  no  remark. 
Dolly  glanced  at  me. 

"Well?"  she  said. 

"  Woman  —  woman  —  woman  !  "  said  I 
sadly. 

"Must  I  carry  some  more?"  asked 
Dolly,  in  a  humble,  yet  protesting,  tone. 

"  Mrs.  Hilary,"  I  began,  "  is  an  exceed- 
ingly attractive  —  " 

Dolly  rose  with  a  sigh. 

"  Where  are  you  going?  "  I  asked. 

"  More  pots,"  said  Dolly,  standing  op- 
posite me.     "  I  must  go  on,  you  see." 

"Till  when.  Lady  Mickleham?  " 

"Till  you  tell  the  truth,"  said  Dolly, 
and  she  suddenly  burst  into  a  little  laugh. 

"  Woman  —  woman  —  woman  !  "  said 
I  again.     "  Let 's  go  in  to  lunch." 

"  I  'm  going  to  carry  the  pots,"  said 


What  Might  Have  Been      173 

Dolly.  "  It 's  awfully  hot,  Mr.  Carter  — 
and  look  at  my  poor  hands  !  " 

She  held  them  out  to  me. 

"Lunch  !  "  said  I. 

"  Pots ! "  said  Dolly,  with  infinite 
firmness. 

The  window  of  the  dining-room  opened 
and  Archie  put  his  head  out. 

"  Come  along,  you  two,"  he  called. 
"  Everything  's  getting  cold." 

Dolly  turned  an  appealing  glance  on 
me. 

"  How  obstinate  you  are  ! "  she  said. 
**  You  know  perfectly  well  —  " 

I  began  to  walk  towards  the  house. 

"  I  'm  am  going  in  to  lunch,"  said  I. 

"Ask  them  to  keep  some  for  me,"  said 
Dolly,  and  she  turned  up  the  sleeves  of 
her  gown,  till  her  wrists  were  free. 

"  It 's  most  unfair,"  said  I  indignantly. 

"  I  don't  care  if  it  is,"  said  Dolly, 
stooping  down  to  lift  a  pot. 

I  watched  her  strain  to  lift  it.  She 
had  chosen  the  largest  and  heaviest ; 
she  sighed  delicately  and  delicately  she 
panted.  She  also  looked  at  her  Jiands, 
and  held  them  up  for  me  to  see  the 
lines  of  brown  on  the  pink.  I  put  my 
hands   in   my    pockets    and    said    most 


174         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

sulkily,  as  I  turned  away  towards  the 
house : 

''All  right.  It  wasn't  Mrs.  Hilary 
then." 

Dolly  rose  up,  seized  me  by  the  arm, 
and  made  me  run  to  the  house. 

"  Mr.  Carter,"  she  cried,  "  would  stop 
for  those  wretched  pots.  He  's  moved 
all  except  two,  but  he  's  broken  three. 
Isn't  he  stupid?" 

"You  are  an  old  ass.  Carter,"  said 
Archie. 

"  I  believe  you  're  right,  Archie," 
said  I. 


XX 

ONE   WAY    IN 

I  HAD  a  very  curious  dream  the  other 
night.  In  fact,  I  dreamt  that  I  was  dead. 
I  passed  through  a  green  baize  door  and 
found  myself  in  a  small  square  room. 
Opposite  me  was  another  door,  inscribed 
"  Elysian  Fields,"  and  in  front  of  it,  at 
a  large  table  with  a  raised  ledge,  sat 
Rhadamanthus.  As  I  entered  I  saw  a 
graceful  figure  vanish  through  the  door 
opposite. 

"  It 's  no  use  trying  to  deceive  me,"  I 
observed.  "  That  was  Mrs.  Hilary,  I 
think  ;  if  you  don't  mind,  I  '11  join  her." 

"I  'm  afraid  I  must  trouble  you  to  take 
a  seat  for  a  few  moments,  Mr.  Carter," 
said  Rhadamanthus,  "  while  I  run  over 
your  little  account." 

"Any  formalities  which  are  usual,"  I 
murmured  politely,  as  I  sat  down. 

Rhadmanthus  turned  over  the  leaves 
of  a  large  book. 

"  Carter  — Samuel  Travers,  is  n't  it !  " 
he  asked. 


176  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

"Yes.  For  goodness  sake  don't  con- 
fuse me  with  Vincent  Carter.  He  only 
paid  five  shillings  in  the  pound," 

"Your  case  presents  some  peculiar 
features,  Mr.  Carter,"  said  Rhadaman- 
thus.  "  I  hope  I  am  not  censorious, 
but  —  well,  that  fine  at  Bow-street?" 

"  I  was  a  mere  boy,"  said  I,  with  some 
warmth,  ".and  my  solicitor  grossly  mis- 
managed the  case." 

"  Well,    well ! "     said     he     soothingly. 

"  But  have  n't  you  spent  a  great  deal  of 
time  at  Monte  Carlo?" 

"A  man  must  be  somewhere,"  said  I. 

Rhadamanthus  scratched  his  nose. 

"  I  should  have  wasted  the  money 
anyhow,"  I  added. 

"  I  suppose  you  would,"  he  conceded. 
"  But  what  of  this  caveat  lodged  by  the 
Dowager  Lady  Mickleham  ?  That 's 
rather  serious,  you  know;  is  n't  it  now  — 
joking  apart?  " 

"  I  am  disappointed,"  I  remarked,  "  to 
find  a  man  of  your  experience  paying 
any  attention  to  such  an  ill-natured  old 
woman." 

"We  have  our  rules,"  he  replied,  "  and 
I  'm  afraid,  Mr.  Carter,  that  until  that 
caveat  is  removed  —  " 


One   Way  in  177 

"You  don't  mean  that?  " 

"  Really,  I  'm  afraid  so." 

"Then  I  may  as  well  go  back,"  said 
I,  taking  my  hat. 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  knock  at 
the  door. 

"  Although  I  can't  oblige  you  with  an 
order  of  admission,"  said  Rhadamanthus, 
very  civilly,  "  perhaps  it  would  amuse 
you  to  listen  to  a  case  or  two.  There  's 
no  hurry,  you  know.  You  've  got  lots  of 
time  before  you." 

"  It  will  be  an  extremely  interesting 
experience,"   said   I,  sitting  down  again. 

The  door  opened,  and,  as  I  expected 
(I  don't  know  why,  but  it  happens  like 
that  in  dreams),  Dolly  Mickleham  came 
in.  She  did  not  seem  to  see  me.  She 
bowed  to  Rhadamanthus,  smiled,  and 
took  a  chair  immediately  opposite  the 
table. 

"  Mickleham  —  Dorothea  —  Countess 
of —  "  she  said. 

"Formerly,  I  think,  Dolly  Foster?" 
asked  Rhadamanthus. 

"  I  don't  see  what  that 's  got  to  do  with 
it,"  said  Dolly. 

"The  account  runs  on,"  he  explained, 
and    began    to    consult    his    big    book. 


1/8         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

Dolly  leant  back  in  her  chair,  slowly 
peehng  off  her  gloves.  Rhadamanthus 
shut  the  book  with  a  bang. 

"■  It  's  not  the  least  use,"  he  said 
decisively.  "  It  would  n't  be  kind 
to  pretend  that  it  was.  Lady  Mickle- 
ham." 

"Dear,  dear,"  said  Dolly.  "What's 
the  matter?  " 

"  Half  the  women  in  London  have 
petitioned  against  you." 

"Have  they  really?"  cried  Dolly,  to 
all  appearance  rather  delighted.  "  What 
do  they  say,  Mr.  Rhadamanthus?  Is  it 
in  that  book?  Let  me  look."  And  she 
held  out  her  hand. 

"  The  book 's  too  heavy  for  you  to 
hold,"  said  he. 

"  I  '11  come  round,"  said  Dolly.  So 
she  went  round  and  leant  over  his 
shoulder  and  read  the  book. 

"What's  that  scent  you've  got  on?" 
asked  Rhadamanthus. 

"  Bouquet  du  diable,"  said  she.  (I 
had  never  heard  of  the  perfume  before.) 
"Isn't  it  sweet?  " 

"  I  have  n't  smelt  it  since  I  was  a 
boy,"  sighed  Rhadamanthus. 

"  Poor  old  thing,"  said  Dolly.     "  I  'm 


One    Way  in  1 79 

not  going  to  read  all  this,  you  know." 
And,  with  a  somewhat  contemptuous 
smile,  she  walked  back  to  her  chair. 
"  They  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  them- 
selves," she  added,  as  she  sat  down. 
*'  It 's  just  because  I  'm  not  a  fright." 

"Are  n't  you  a  fright?  "  asked  Rhada- 
manthus.     "Where  are  my  spectacles?" 

He  put  them  on  and  looked  at 
Dolly. 

"  I  must  go  in,  you  know,"  said  Dolly, 
smiling  at  Rhadamanthus.  "  My  husband 
has  gone  in  I  " 

"  I  should  n't  have  thought  you  'd  con- 
sider that  conclusive,"  said  he,  with  a 
touch  of  satire  in  his  tone. 

"  Don't  be  horrid,"  said  Dolly,  pout- 
ing. 

There  was  a  pause.  Rhadamanthus 
examined  Dolly  through  his  spectacles. 

"This  is  a  very  painful  duty,"  said  he, 
at  last.  "  I  have  sat  here  for  a  great 
many  years,  and  I  have  seldom  had  a 
more  painful  duty." 

"  It 's  very  absurd  of  you,"  said  Dolly. 

"  I  can't  help  it,  though,"  said  he. 

"  Do  you  really  mean  that  I  'm  not  to 
go  in?" 

"  I  do,  indeed,"  said  Rhadamanthus. 


i8o         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

Dolly  rose.  She  leant  her  arms  on  the 
raised  ledge  which  ran  along' the  table, 
and  she  leant  her  chin  on  her  hands. 

''Really?"  she  said. 

"Really,"  said  he,  looking  the  other 
way. 

A  sudden  change  came  over  Dolly's 
face.  Her  dimples  vanished  :  her  eyes 
grew  pathetic  and  began  to  shine  rather 
than  to  sparkle  :  her  lip  quivered  just  a 
little. 

"  You 're  very  unkind,"  she  said  in  an 
extremely  low  tone.  "  I  had  no  idea  you 
would  be  so  unkind." 

Rhadamanthus  seemed  very  uncom- 
fortable. 

"  Don't  do  that,"  he  said,  quite  sharply, 
fidgeting  with  the  blotting-paper. 

Dolly  began  to  move  slowly  round  the 
table.  Rhadamanthus  sat  still.  When 
she  was  standing  close  by  him,  she  put 
her  hand  lightly  on  his  arm  and  said  : 

"  Please  do,  Mr.  Rhadamanthus." 

"  It 's  as  much  as  my  place  is  worth," 
he  grumbled. 

Dolly's  eyes  shone  still,  but  the  faint- 
est little  smile  began  to  play  about  her 
mouth. 

"  Some  day,"  she  said  (with  total  inap- 


One    Way  in  i8i 

propriateness,  now  I  come  to  think  of  it, 
though  it  did  not  strike  me  so  at  the 
time),  "you  '11  be  glad  to  remember  hay- 
ing done  a  kind  thing.  When  you  're  old 
—  because  you  are  not  really  old  now  — 
you  will  say,  '  I  'm  glad  I  did  n't  send 
poor  Dolly  Mickleham  away  crying.'  " 

Rhadamanthus  uttered  an  inarticulate 
sound  —  half  impatience,  half,  I  fancy, 
something  else. 

"  We  are  none  of  us  perfect,  I  daresay. 
If  I  asked  your  wife  —  " 

"  I  have  n't  got  a  wife,"  said  Rhada- 
manthus. 

"  That 's  why  you  're  so  hard-hearted," 
said  Dolly.  "  A  man  who  's  got  a  wife  is 
never  hard  on  other  women." 

There  was  another  pause.  Then  Rhad- 
amanthus, looking  straight  at  the  blotting- 
paper,  said  : 

"Oh,  well,  don't  bother  me.  Be  off 
with  you ;  "  and  as  he  spoke,  the  door 
behind  him  opened. 

Dolly's  face  broke  out  into  sudden 
sunshine.  Her  eyes  danced,  her  dimples 
capered  over  her  chin. 

"  Oh,  you  old  dear  !  "  she  cried ;  and, 
stooping  swiftly,  she  kissed  Rhadaman- 
thus.     "  You  're    horribly   bristly  !  "    she 


1 82  The  Dolly  Dialogues 

laughed ;  and  then,  before  he  could 
move,  she  ran  through  the  door. 

I  rose  from  my  seat,  taking  my  hat  and 
stick  in  my  hand.  I  felt,  as  you  may 
suppose,  that  I  had  been  there  long 
enough.  When  I  moved,  Rhadaman- 
thus  looked  up,  and  with  an  attempt  at 
unconsciousness  observed  : 

*'We  will  proceed  with  your  case  now, 
if  you  please,  Mr.  Carter." 

I  looked  him  full  in  the  face.  Rhad- 
amanthus  blushed.  I  pursued  my  way 
towards  the  door. 

''Stop  !  "  he  said,  in  a  blustering  tone. 
"You  can't  go  there,  you  know." 

I  smiled  significantly. 

"  Is  n't  it  rather  too  late  for  that  sort 
of  thing?"  I  asked.  "You  seem  to 
forget  that  I  have  been  here  for  the 
last  quarter  of  an  hour." 

"  I  did  n't  know  she  was  going  to  do 
it,"  he  protested. 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  said  I,  "  that  will  be 
your  story.  Mine,  however,  I  shall  tell 
in  my  own  way." 

Rhadamanthus  blushed  again.  Evi- 
dently he  felt  that  he  was  in  a  delicate 
position.  We  were  standing  thus,  fac- 
ing  one    another,  when    the  door  began 


One   Way  in  183 

to  open  again,  and  Dolly  put  her  head 
out. 

''Oh,  it's  you,  is  it?"  she  said.  "I 
thought  I  heard  your  voice.  Come 
along  and  help  me  to  find  Archie." 

"  This  gentleman  says  I  'm  not  to 
come  in,"  said  I. 

"  Oh,  what  nonsense  !  Now,  you 
really  must  n't  be  silly,  Mr.  Rhadaman- 
thus  —  or  I  shall  have  to  —  Mr.  Carter, 
you  were  n't  there,  were  you?  " 

"  I  was  —  and  a  more  interesting  piece 
of  scandal  it  has  seldom  been  —  " 

"  Hush  !  I  did  n't  do  anything.  Now, 
you  know  I  didn't,  Mr.  Carter  !  " 

''No,"  said  I,  "you  didn't.  But 
Rhadamanthus,  taking  you  unawares  —  " 

"  Oh,  be  off  with  you  —  both  of  you  !  " 
cried  Rhadamanthus. 

"That's  sensible,"  said  Dolly.  "Be- 
cause, you  know,  there  really  isn't  any 
harm  in  poor  Mr.  Carter." 

Rhadamanthus  vanished.  Dolly  and 
I  went   inside. 

"  I  suppose  everything  will  be  very 
different  here,"  said  Dolly,  and  I  think 
she  sighed. 

Whether  it  were  or  not  I  don't  know, 
for  just   then   I  awoke,  and  found  my- 


1 84         The  Dolly  Dialogues 

self  saying  aloud,  in  answer  to  the  dream- 
voice  and  the  dream-face  (which  had 
not  gone  altogether  with  the  dream), 

"Not  everything  "  — a  speech  that,  I 
agree,  I  ought  not  to  have  made,  even 
though  it  were  only  in  a  dream. 


THE    END. 


